


THE LEAVERS DANCE

by SawyerDonovan



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent (Movies) RPF, Divergent - All Media Types, Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Action, Angst, Drama, F/M, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2018-12-12 15:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11739585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SawyerDonovan/pseuds/SawyerDonovan
Summary: “I’ll ask one more time.” Eric murmured roughly, his tone intimate, his head dipped and his mouth, warm and hard, touching, nipping lightly the bare curve of her neck.  His words were soft but she was not deceived by his tone.  She could hear the underlining promise.   “Last chance, Tris.”  ERICxTRIS, Divergent.





	1. AFTERSHOCK

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent, the book or characters, or Daughtery, the music and lyrics. Also the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie, because really, I need Jai Courtney to come and live with me :)

AFTERSHOCK: noun / the effect, result, or repercussion of an event; aftermath; consequence

\- - -

"Just know that I am still alive. I'm still walking. I'm still breathing." Eric Coulter's cold voice hardened, harsh fury filtering through his tone. "As long as I'm doing that – this isn't over."

\- - -

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND  
NOVEMBER  
WEDNESDAY - 11:45 P.M.

Silently she watched him from the shadows.

She heard him suck in his breath – not in annoyance – rather that of an animal snarling, bristling in rage as he stalked through the Dauntless compound training area. His body rippled with an involuntary motion of that like a predator poised, adrenaline pumping, his muscles tensed, seething as he pulled off his long-sleeved black thermal knit shirt, carelessly dropping it behind him.

She often wondered what it was that made him so cruelly clever. Whether it be his need for power, the pressure and prestige of the position he has been so meticulous groomed for or if he simply possessed that certain quality of ruthlessness that understand the truth of their dark age. 

Either way she knew one fact for certain - Eric Coulter was the most dangerous man she had ever known.

The brooding, intense loner never did anything without a reason. Acting with little regard for what was proper, driven by anger with a quick wit that made him easily hated and despised.

Arrogant with a reckless charm obscured with a dark sensuality that was both intriguing and frightening, he was a man that women shuddered and yearned for.

And for a time, she had burned brightly in the unrelenting fire that was Eric Coulter, basking in the searing pleasure of his clever mouth, loving the very devil so intent on destroying her.

It was also that love that had finally broken her.

But this night, she almost envied his fury.

She was still in shocked, stunned by the unexpected loss of her brother to the complete control of Jeanine Matthews and the Erudite Faction. He had turned his back to her, to their family left in Abnegation to become the second hand to the woman intent on overrunning the government system despite her claims she was only doing what was best for the Faction system.

Faction before Blood had never rang truer than it did that evening.

How could she be so numb, but hurt so much at the same time.

She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and forget this day, forget this moment.

So yes, she envied his anger.

A satisfied smile curved her lips as Eric's fragile grasp on his barely-controlled temper exploded, unraveling into motion, destroying whatever was in his path. His fists collided repeatedly against the wall, his hands tearing and bleeding, cursing loudly as he took out his vicious frustration on himself.

He felt her touch on the base of his back, her fingers cool against his hot, sweaty skin that caused him to stiffen. He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath as her scent invaded his senses, his knuckles torn and bruised dangled uselessly at his sides. He bowed his head, staring at the floor as he attempted to contain the emotion that lapped at his will.

"Eric," Tris' voice was barely above a whisper as he turned, laughing harshly, his chest heaving, his gaze searing her.

She let out an unsteady breath as he stalked towards her, her gaze focusing on the pulse that throbbed visibly in the hollow of his throat, the bronze curve of his chiseled jaw.

As her back met the wall, his muscles coiled and slide beneath tanned skin when his palms flattened on the surface, imprisoning her between the cage of his arms and his body.

Eric watched as she bit her full lower lip, drawing it between her teeth. Her fingertips trailed across the curve of his ribcage before resting on his lower stomach, the solid muscle rippling at the contact.

She was the only one who dared to step close to him in his anger.

And she was the only one who he had ever allowed to touch him when he was coming apart at the seams.

She knew it was wrong as she smoothed her hands down his cheeks, loving the rasp of his stubble against her palms as she stared into his eyes, the blue swirling together with silver in an unusual mixture of lightened darkness.

Her seduction whispered around him, teasing his control. Eric knew he couldn't resist her. Her skin was already damp, hot, he could feel her tremble, breathless when she murmured his name, the sound shaky through the blood pounding in his temples.

She was silently daring him to move.

Her Divergence be damned.

He pushed one hand into her glossy hair, pulling her head towards his, allowing her softness to rest against his strength.

His mouth was hot and wild, hard and deep, their mingle of breath growing unsteady and shallow. She shuddered, meeting the intrusion of his tongue with her own fiercely, moaning in satisfaction at his taste. Her fingers curved around his neck, plunging into his hair, holding his head, twisting hers to the side, arousing her, satisfying her, consuming her. 

His tongue damp, tracing hers in a wicked pattern she had long forgotten.

She could almost feel the fury and frustration, and something more, carefully buried needs in his taste as his head slanted over her and with an audible sound their lips parted.

In that moment, Eric knew exactly what he wanted. What he needed. 

With feeling coursing through him, his breathing grew heavier and his grip on her waist became almost painful in his intensity. Eric did not move or speak, but simply stared into her eyes and masked nothing.

Tris' breath caught in her throat and she could not look away. There was something different in his eyes.

From a mixture of lust, passion, sorrow, betrayal, confusion, every emotion she could think that was ever hidden, tiny prisms of light seemed to catch, radiating a hungry blue, a darkened silver, exploding in its raw form. 

She recognized the look she had seen long ago, this was the man she knew … and it killed her. 

This was the man that could be the best, be his own man and not need Jeanine Matthews and the endless power she promised. 

This was the man she loved.

Eric pressed closer, wanting her to feel him, his body, hiding nothing of himself.

Slowly she slipped from his grasp, leaving coldness in the place of warm, Eric exhaled, the fury leaving his body as he searched her eyes, past the elusive, shadowed depths.

"It's about fucking time. Welcome back."

\- - -

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND  
NOVEMBER: SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE  
THURSDAY 

Peter Hayes stood near the entrance of the Pit, his chest over-inflated with self-importance, his arms spread out as he regaled his tale of how he believed he had finally bested the young Dauntless leader to his fellow initiates.

"He dared to threaten me. Me! Told me I would end up Factionless if I didn't learn my place. Dumb fucker, I could easily destroy him." Peter's voice rose, shrill with righteousness. "I will have job by the end of the Choosing Ceremony."

He paused dramatically, rubbing his hands together, his pale face shining with sweat, but before he could continue his rant a hum of "tik tok tik tok" echoed throughout the air, cutting through his words.

Confused Peter turned, stepped to the side of Drew and Molly, searching for the source until his gaze set on the one girl who had caused him nothing but grief since the start of Initiation.

She sat, perched on top of a large boulder, one leg clad in a black and grey skull designed legging, dangled downwards as her black combat swung aimlessly. Still humming, she flipped to the next page of the report she was reading.

The Abnegation princess.

Eric Coulter's very own Divergent.

Beatrice Prior.

"Something amuse you, Tris?" Peter snapped, his tone thick with distaste, his dark brows drawing down low over his eyes.

The first jumper initiate set aside her paper, sliding down the rock, a cynically amused smile curled the corner of her full lips, a predatory gleam to her darkly shadowed eyes as she sauntered towards Peter.

"Run run as fast as you can. When Eric catches you, you're a dead man." Her chant was soft with warning as she circled him, aimlessly twirling the end of a pigtail around her finger.

"Clever, very cute." Peter's beady green eyes narrowed. "Eric does not scare me. He can't touch me."

"Then you're foolish, stupidly foolish." Tris reasoned, shrugging her shoulders. "Because when Eric gets his hands on you, God himself will not be able to save you."

Peter swallowed harshly, barely resisting the urge to look over his shoulder at the truth of her words.

"Eric use to laugh about you, gloat about how he planned to tarnish and destroy the Abnegation princess." he said coldly as she paused unflinching at his statement. "You made him weak."

"You see that's where you're wrong. I made him the best." Tris stepped back, casting him a smirk over her shoulder as she walked towards training room. "Good luck to you, Peter."


	2. BARGAIN

Thanks for reading! Also, I have made the characters a little older - Tris is 21 and Eric 25. The Faction Choosing Ceremony does not take place until age 21 for my story.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent, the book or characters. Also, the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie.

BARGAIN: noun / an agreement between two or more parties as to what each party will do for the other.

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND  
OCTOBER - 6 WEEKS PRIOR  
TUESDAY- 1:45 A.M.

She stood in front of his door, her arms protectively crossed against her churning stomach, gnawing her full lower lip as her mind numbly registered the vicious roaring echoing throughout her ears.

Tris Prior forced herself to breathe deeply, attempting to ease the hideous pressure of her chest, ignoring the panic that licked at her, practically begging her to turn, flee and simply accept the fact she was not brave, that she did not belong in the Dauntless faction.

She had heard the whispers of her fellow initiates, the taunts and gloating that grew with each target missed and each match lost, the sneering laughter of those who craved her stumble, fail and be deemed for what she was, a Factionless fraud.

The forsaken daughter of the Abe nation leader that had chosen to go against her family and not continue the path that had been so carefully constructed for her since birth.

She was not able to explain, at least clearly enough for her father's acceptance, as to why each step she had taken in Abnegation had been a strain, taking her further away from where she wanted to be, who she needed to. Her existence had become mundane, lifeless, a series of the same day with the same faces and situations, pale, colorless.

Dull.

To never question, to never expect or yearn for something more, to never peek at what could exist around the corner.

She could lose herself in Dauntless. That she knew. The life that existed beneath the surface, the movement, the choice, the very freedom she desperately craved and selfishly desired.

But a constant cold fist clenched in her stomach reminded her of one painful truth she could no longer ignore.

She was Divergent.

And that very fact could cost her life if ever discovered.

She felt a quiet desperation in knowing that she needed to survive. She needed to get out of the fucking bottom ranking slot.

And in order to do that she needed help, and for that help, she understood that there would be a price to pay.

No matter how high the cost may be.

She knew exactly what it would cost her to make the deal with the very devil intent on destroying her.

Somehow, she stepped forward without conscious will, her fingers pressing against the buzzer once before smartly pounding her fist against the door's steel surface.

Tris forced her body to still, waiting only a few moments before she heard a low, steady stream of cursing as the door swung open and a small smile unexpectedly curved her lips at the sight of the young Dauntless leader dressed in only a pair of black pants that had been hastily fastened with his hair sticking out in every direction as if he had swept his fingers through it too many times.

Shivers of awareness crept over her arms and down her spine as his striking blue darkened slightly, tracing over her taking in the glossy chestnut blonder hair that clung artlessly about her shoulders and down to her bare feet. She shifted her weight to the side, resisting the overwhelming urge to cross her arms over her chest, hunch her shoulders down.

The curve of his birdcage was laced by bands of muscle, the solid wall of his abdomen rippled, golden tanned expansion of chest, her eyes trailing over the sickly hair that ran down below his naval before disappearing beneath the pants that hung low on his hips. He raised his arms, stretching, the sleek muscle pulling taunt and contracting.

"Something I can help you with, initiate?" Eric Coulter's voice was low, his husky timbre rough with sleep as he leaned his shoulder against the frame, the muscular ease of his stance evident.  
In her mind, she could feel the heat his body generated, overpowering the small space between them. Odd that something so simple, so basic, could frighten her.

She often wondered what made him so cruelly clever. Whether it was his need for power, the pressure and prestige of the position he has been groomed for or if he simply possessed the certain quality of ruthlessness to understand the truth of their dark age.

Either way she knew one fact for certain - Eric Coulter was the most dangerous man she had ever known.

And she desperately needed his help.

"I need to talk to you."

"And it couldn't possibly have waited for preferably decent hour." Eric cut in, rubbing a hand across his tired face. "Like any other person would have done."

"What I have to say I would prefer not all for Dauntless to hear." She could see the questions in his eyes, knowing she had captured his interest. "May I come in?"

"Oh, by all means, please do. It wasn't like I was in the middle of doing anything important." Eric said, his tone pensive as he pushed away from the door frame.

"Do you … do you have someone over …" her voice trailed off, a dark red flushing vividly against her high cheekbones, realizing what she may have interrupted.

"My, my Ms. Prior what a dirty mind you have. Never thought a good little Abnegation girl was allowed such non-pure thoughts." He mocked her, lightly laughing at her mortified expression. "Jesus, relax. I was sleeping."

"You know what, never mind, this wasn't a good idea." Tris said turning away as his palm curved around her upper arm, the texture of her skin silky smooth against his callused skin.

A spark of electricity raced over Tris' skin at his touch as she tried to jerk her arm out of his grasp causing his grip to immediately tighten. She felt the strength of his hands as he stared directly into her eyes, making her blood rush hot through her veins.

"Too bad for you then. You've woken me and now you need to entertain me with whatever little drama crisis you have going on." He smirked, his amusement evident in his tone, holding out a hand. "Besides, I can behave like a good boy. I've had all my shots."

She sidestepped him as she entered his apartment, walking down the three steps to the main floor. The loft itself was gutted, exposing the original brick and utility tubing with the lower level anchored by an open kitchen and large living room.

He stood close to her, just inside the doorframe, the impact of his physical presence took her breath away.

His leanness was dangerously deceptive, for it was all muscle, graceful strength conditioned through years military-inspired training.

His gaze sharpened, narrowed and intense, waiting, then gleamed with satisfaction, and with a chill she knew he had realized that his closeness made her nervous.

There were days that Eric Coulter felt nothing.

Not a glimmer, not a spark of excitement, of desire, only the bitter aftertaste of dissatisfaction.

But that had changed with one initiate.

Beatrice Prior, the little wisp of a girl dressed in grey that had been the first jumper, something pure in the darkness.

He had not expected her. He had not anticipated his reaction to her.

And it pissed him off far more than he would like to admit.

"So, talk." He waved his hand towards her, waiting for her to begin.

"I need your help."

"My help? Really, I thought I was no better than the devil to you and your little Candor friend I let hang over the Chasm." Eric said. "What's wrong? Is Number Boy too busy to handle his initiates?"

"I don't need Four's help. I need yours. I need to know what I need to do to stay in Dauntless."

"You have one of the lowest ranking. Its rather pathetic. You should just give up." He walked around her, reaching out, twisting a smooth strand of her hair about his finger as he taunted her. "Quit. Save yourself the embarrassment of when I am forced to eliminate you."

"Fuck you, Eric. I'm not quitting." Tris ground out, through gritted teeth.

"Isn't that what you're offering though? Me to fuck you for a few extra points?"

"You're disgusting. I don't want to fuck my way to the next level as you are so elegantly putting it." Rage built slowly. It was almost a relief to her, banishing the fatigue and mental fog, leaving her thought processes cool and precise.

He let out a whistle. "Temper temper kitten," he chided, looking as if he was enjoying her anger. "Remember you are the one who came to me."

"I've heard about you. You pick your favorite. Teach them, train them, make them the best." She said those words before she has a chance to once again question her decision.

"And you think you should be the teacher's pet."

"I can't let it control me. Never show your weakness. Isn't that what you said? Well mine is blatantly on display for the whole fucking world to see. I'm weak, I know that. I can't be that weak. I can't let them win."

"Weak is the last thing you are." Eric tonelessly admitted the words. "Your quick, your smart, you can use that to your advantage. But why not have Four help with this little experiment. I'm sure he would be oh so willing."

"No, he won't understand. He keeps saying work on proper posture. Focus, pay attention, blah blah blah …more useless bullshit." She waved off his suggestion. "He's not the one I need."

Eric understood her in a way that frightened her. He understood the truth of the dark age in which they lived that only the smartest and strongest could survive.

And he was all the more dangerous for the knowledge.

"What are you willing to pay?" He asked, his tone roughened with darkness, using his finger to lift her chin. "Are offering me use of this sweet little virginal body."

"Is that what you really want?" She asked him flatly.

It would be a game to him.

To teach her and mold her. Something to tarnish, someone to break, something to make him feel alive.

She challenged him, challenged the Dauntless beliefs and actions.

She was pure, innocent, everything good that he had forgotten or lost.

Make her love him and then destroy her for that weakness.

"I'm not someone you would want." Even in her own ears, her voice sounded small.

He took a step towards her and Tris felt her hands instinctively reach out as if to ward of his advances but her fingers touched the bare skin of his waist, sliding across the heated flesh when he stepped loser so that she was mutely aware of the rippling muscles in his thighs as his legs moved against her.

The man pressed against her, cleverly assaulting her senses was not an illusion. He was flesh and blood that made her want to taste the texture of his skin.

"You don't think I haven't thought about it? Having my smart-ass mouthed initiate on her knees, her lips wrapped around my cock." Tris' breathing became shallow, hitching and rapid as he gazed down at her, his eyes darkening, becoming heavy lidded and intent. "No feelings, no commitment, no expectations. Just a game to how wet and warm I can make you. And you'll enjoy it. You'll enjoy the control."

It would be so good, she imagined, so wanton.

It would be wrong.

"I'll ask one more time." Eric murmured roughly, his tone intimate, his head dipped and his mouth, warm and hard, touching, nipping lightly the bare curve of her neck. His words were soft but she was not deceived by his tone. She could hear the underlining promise. "Last chance, Tris."

He was daring her to move.

She knew there would be no stopping, no going back. More importantly it would not end with just one kiss.

"I'll help you Tris. But it will be on my terms and payment due in my time."

Her lips clung to his as he slanted his head to the side, his tongue gliding over hers. It was not a mere brush of the lips. Instead it turned into something darker and deeper.

"Teach me Eric."

Encouraged by his own his desire to taste her again, his tongue entered non-aggressively, stroked lazily, tasting her thoroughly. Tris made a small sound of delight and sucked, curling her own tongue upwards to meet his. He roughly ran his hands down her sides. Thumbs brushing against the sides of her breasts then her hips before digging into her bottom. Eric's mouth ravaged hers deep and fierce. Tris' hands came to grip the back of his head, her body sagging as she couldn't help but to submit to him. He took her bottom lip between his teeth, sucking lightly on it before releasing her.

Heat coursed through his lean body drowning the logic of his rationalizations, his skin tightening with need, stretching across his chiseled features. Blood wildly surged to his manhood, hardening the thick length against the material of   
his pants as stared in satisfaction at her wet, swollen lips.

"Do you trust me?"

His grin formed, slow, devilish, sultry, and she became lost in the dangerous and captivating power of his gaze.

"No."

"Good."


	3. HUMILIATION

Thanks for reading and forgive me for any mistakes! I wrote this half asleep. Next chapter is a little bit of good old fashioned smut! 

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent, the book or characters. Also, the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie. I did use some dialogue from the movie and book that is not mine!

HUMILIATION / noun / The act of humiliating; degradation; state of being humiliated or disgraced; shame.

DAUNTLESS TRAINING WAREHOUSE  
EARLY OCTOBER  
SUNDAY - 6:35 P.M.

“You’re kind of good at this.”

Tris glanced over at her petite friend who was watching her with an eyebrow arched, a curious smile curving her lips, studying her smooth movements.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the dusty and broken glass windows of the warehouse, casting shadows across the floor. Blue body-shaped targets were mounted on the wall, lining the length, full nicks and chipped wood from the years of Dauntless initiate training exercises.

Tris flipped the knife, balancing the blade in the palm of her hand, testing its weight, before drawing her arm back, confident in her ability as she aimed for the wall. The tip of the knife embedded directly in the center of her target’s head and she could not help but smirk slightly at the sound of Peter’s low curses as his blades continued to bounce off the blue surface and clatter onto the floor.

She was slowly moving her way up in the rankings much to the dismay and disbelief of her fellow initiates having defeated Myra, Molly and even Christina in her most recent fights.

Each morning she rose two hours before any other initiate only to be put through a series of rigorous training exercises constructed by Eric that targeted her strength, stamina and ability to handle physical pain.

She would never win a content of brute strength. She understood and accepted that fact long ago. But she was fast and she was smart. It would come down to be a test of endurance. 

Lure them into a false sense of calm in their belief that she was still the little, weak girl from Abnegation, Eric had advised.

Dodging punches, blocking kicks, effectively wearing out her opponent until their efforts were futile.

And then attack. Viciously, aggressively, ruthlessly doing what she needed to do in order win.

Tris had to admit for all Eric’s arrogance, the bastard was right. And he knew it.

She still wasn’t sure what Eric wanted from her as his true payment for their late night agreement. 

It wasn’t sex as she had originally thought it would be, but more often than she liked to admit she ended up beneath him on the training mats, disheveled, panting, her lips swollen from his kisses as he stared down at her with eyes darkened with need.

And each night she ended up in his bed in almost an unspoken agreement that had formed during their first night together. 

She would wait, her eyes closed and body relaxed until she was sure the others had fallen asleep before slipping silently from the room to his apartment, entering with the code he had given her.

Some nights she simply ignored him, collapsing from exhaustion on his bed, weariness overtaking her or tempers would overcome as she tested his patience without realizing what she was doing and furious she would storm back to her cold, hard cot. In those moments it was only a matter of time before he stalked silently across the shared sleeping area of the initiates, toss her over his shoulder with her sinking her sharp teeth into his shoulder on the way back to his apartment.

But each morning, she woke she was in his arms, the taste of him of her lips.

And in the dark hours of the nigh she learned that what she had with Eric was dangerous, undeniably strong as if there was no choice.

It simply was. 

And that frightened her more than she was willing to admit.  
Four stood behind the initiates, leaning against the table, silently observing as Eric walked down the line stopping to make a suggestion when he saw fit.  
His musky male scent made her nostrils flare in automatic delight as he stopped behind her, watching.  
His hands gripped her hips, shifting her stance slightly to the left as she relaxed, shivering at the feelings of his rough fingers sliding over her taunt curves, his skin hot against hers. She nodded, barely resisting the urge to lean back and rest against his strength.

“Turn your hip in slightly,” he instructed, leaning his head down, his warm breath tickling her. “You’ll get better range.”

Her blade hit in the mark dead center.

“Good.” His fingers flexed on her hips, lightly squeezing before moving to Christina, arranging the knife in her grasp correctly.

“Well that was weird.”

“What was?” Tris drew in a deep breath, steadying herself as she seemed to have to do after he touched her each time.

“He almost seemed … nice. Helpful even.” Christina stated, her hands coming to a rest on her hips. “Totally non-Eric like.”

“Maybe he got laid.” Will whispered loudly as Christina giggled and Tris’ fingers clenched tightly around the blade’s base at the thought.

If only her friends knew the truth of his so-called late activities.

“That was pathetic.” Eric’s voice harsh voice cut through the bantering of their conversation and their merriment rapidly faded.

“Nevermind, prince charming is back.” Christina murmured under her breath, turning to watch as Al shifted uncomfortably at the attention now focused on him.

“It slipped.” Al stammered, looking down, the tips of his ears turning a light pink.

“Well go get it.” Eric said as the tenuous control of his tempter waived.

“What? While their throwing?”

“Are you afraid?” Eric scoffed, his voice hardening in disgust as he mocked him. 

“Of getting stabbed by an airborne knife? Yeah.” The edgy desperation of Al’s voice had Tris tensing knowing Eric would never just let him walk now.

“Everybody stop. Stand in front of the target.” Eric ordered Al, pointing as the sounds of the knives clanging against the wall quieted. 

Tris clenched her hands into tight fists, watching as Al’s face flushed slowly from a dark red of embarrassment to paling as he unsteadily walked towards his target, his large body unnaturally trembling.

She knew Eric’s nature very well, having firsthand experience of his ruthlessness. He was a predator and the first hint of weakness would draw him straight in for the kill.

And he was planning to use Al as his example for his disdain of such.

“Four, give me a hand here. You are going to stand there while he throws those knives. ” Eric took a blade in his hand, lightly tapping the tip against his palm, a cold, deadly smile twisted his lips at the satisfaction he felt at his words. “If I see you flinch, you’re out. One thing you are going to learn here is that orders are not optional.” 

She watched as Four’s arm drew back and Al looked down as if he were ready to start crying, vibrating in fear.

He would not last past the first throw.

And Eric took joy in knowing that.

“Stop.” Tris interrupted harshly, unable to stop her words, outrage vibrating through her body. She knew what this interference would cost her. “Anybody can stand in front of a target. It doesn’t prove anything.”

Eric’s body stilled as he glared at her through a narrowed gaze, an intense quality of the violence and rage burned in the depths of his blue eyes that had turned icy as she unflinching returned his stare, silently battling his will.

Like his eyes, his expression was closed, his face bleak and unyielding, cut from stone. 

He looked as hard and as cold as his position demanded.

He was a leader first, a trained warrior.

And she refused to back down at his unspoken command. 

“Then it should be easy for you to take his place.” Eric said softly, but she was not deceived by his tone. She could hear the underlining threat. “Same rules apply.”

She brushed a strand of hair from her face, nerves clenching in a tight fist in her stomach and she walked past Al as he quickly abandoned his position. She folded her hands behind her back, her spine stiff as her almost delicate build rested against the wall, her tapered chin tilted in a stubborn challenge towards him. 

The first knife embedded into the wall next to her, the loud sound slightly startling her, but she took a deep breath, refusing to move.

“Ah come on Four, you can get closer than that.” Eric’s voice took on a patronizing tone as he smirked down at her. She knew in his mind, he was fantasizing about wringing her neck.

“You want me to give her a little trim?”

“Yeah,” He laughed lightly and she bit her tongue, forcing herself to remain quiet. “Just a little off the top.”

Tris let out a soft gasp, moving her head slightly away from the blade that had cut her ear, feeling the burn as blood trickled from the wound.

“Points for bravery, stiff, but not as many as you just lost for opening your mouth. Watch yourself. We train soldiers not rebels.” Eric warned her. “Alright we’re done for today. Get out.” He pointed towards her. “Except for you.”

Tris gave a slight smile to Christina as her friend hesitantly left the room and Al backed away, silently mouthing that he was sorry.

As if his sorry would save her.

Once they were alone she stepped forward, moving away from the blue target, furiously rubbing her ear as Eric snarled and turned, hurling the blade into the wall in his explosive frustration.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” Eric asked very softly, the velvety sound chilling with vibrant rage as he spoke. 

“He cut me.” Try as she may she could not keep the accusatory tone from creeping into her statement.

“He was meant too.” Eric hissed precisely, leaning even closer, until his nose was almost touching hers. 

“You wanted him too.” Fury tightened her features, coloring flushing against her high cheekbones. 

“I wanted to you remind you to be smart. To know that they are always watching.” In his tone there was an iron authority of someone who expected to be obeyed, immediately. “That sometimes you have to keep your fucking mouth shut.”

“I won’t apologize for helping my friend.”

“Fuck Tris, is that what you think? This is not about your friend.” Eric let out a harsh, sarcastic laugh at her assumption, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “This is about you and your goddamn inability in not letting some things happen as they should.”

“You’re unbelievable!” Tris exploded, ignoring his mummer of warning, stepping forward to jab her finger into his chest. “What exactly was I suppose to do? Stand there with my head down and ignore it while you humiliated him for your own amusement.” 

“I was reminding him of his place. Something you seem so intent on me having to do the same for you.” Eric gazed down into her furious face, his eyes darkening, becoming heavy-lidded and intent. He took hold of her hand, moving it away from his chest, her fingers folded against his hard, calloused palm and with a quick movement he spun her round and folded his arms about her, crossing them under her breasts and her wrists manacled. Just that quickly, just that easily, she was subdued and surrounded, his muscled body hard and warm against her back. 

Her first instinct was to struggle away from the disturbing heat of his touch, but she forced herself to stand still, sensing he would enjoy watching her try to free herself.

“Now, maybe you thought I would stand here and let you jab holes into my chest with that fingernail, but I need to be in a different mood to enjoy that.” He mocked. “And tell me what exactly pisses you off more? The fact that I used you as an example or that I refused to jump and do as you say when you snapped your little fingers like your friend so willingly would do. He would love for you to bring him to a heel and be your bitch. You’ve forgotten who I am princess.”

“Well his intentions shouldn’t worry you. In case you have forgotten, I don’t belong to you, Eric.”

“You’re not mine?”

“No.”

One thing Tris had learned about Eric Coulter. He was a possessive man.  
And he was possessive as hell of the girl he considered to be his spitfire and sass.  
The man pressed against her, cleverly assaulting her senses was not an illusion. He was flesh and blood that made her want to taste the texture of his skin.  
Against her will she felt a shiver run down her spine at the sight of him, hands gripping her tightly, no mistaking the blatant male arousal of his body. There was no question about who she belonged too.

Eric watched her through narrowed eyes, the intense quality of his gaze burning into her. There was no embarrassment or apology in his expression. He was man and reacted as such.

“Are you so sure about that, darling?” Eric murmured darkly, his breath ghosting against her skin causing her eyes to flutter shut, leaving only the feeling of his warm, wet mouth, his lips trailing down her neck, teasing her with soft kisses, his tongue tracing circles on her collarbone. “Do you fucking understand? Not Al’s, not Four’s or any of fucking initiate. Mine.”

 

His mouth clamped down on her lower neck, sucking harshly, licking and nipping the tendons, his cheeks flexing as he drew the skin against his teeth, and she gasped, her body clenching wildly in response and she arched against his hands, hissing as he let her go just as quickly. 

He stepped back, lightly laughing as he leaned back to avoid her swinging fist, admiring the dark purple splotch on her neck. Let her little friends question who the oh-so pure Abnegation princess allowed to mark her.

The woman facing him didn’t lack self-confidence, and she didn’t appear to be the least intimidated by him .

Something else stole into his awareness. Damn, he could smell her, a sweet, soft scent that had nothing to do with perfume and everything to do with female flesh. His involuntary reaction made him angrier.

“You are such as ass.” She flared, drawing in a ragged breath. “All that proves is you can overpower me. Do you get off on that? Is that what makes you such a great leader?” She flared, drawing in a ragged breath.

“You know exactly who I am. I’m the only goddamn chance you have of surviving. I’m the one you need. I’m the one you crave.” Eric moved a step closer to her, close enough that she had to look up to maintain eye contact, close enough to intrude into her personal space and subtly threaten her. “Do you know what I risk by being here with you?”

“Nothing,” she whimpered, panicking when he moved so close.

“I risk everything.” he stated softly, whispering the words as he stared at her.

She could almost feel the fury and frustration and something more, a longing to deep for words, carefully buried needs, his slanted head towards her.

He scoffed and then turned his eyes on her again, seriousness in their depths.

“And every night you spend in my bed, my leadership skills you are so fond of questioning don’t seem to concern you.” Eric smirked, not amused but more dangerous and angry.

Tris mouth snapped shut with a small whimper as she stepped back, her eyes widening in realization.

He was right.

He was fucking right and she knew it.

She knew his reputation. Hell, he was legendary for its existence. But she had gone to him for his help, offered herself as payment.

Had she become one of the many? Did she really mean so little to him?

“You’re right I did. I thought I actually saw a man underneath all the leadership bullshit you seem so content to hide behind. But that was my mistake. I won’t forget again.”

\- - -

ERIC’S APARTMENT  
EARLY OCTOBER  
MONDAY - 1:5 A.M.

She was doing it deliberately, Eric told himself. Just to piss him off.

And it was working.

He had spent the better part of the two hours hours waiting for Tris at his apartment, but he knew she would not be arriving anytime soon. 

He had known that as soon as she uttered the words earlier in the afternoon. 

He groaned, rubbing his hands across his face before collapsing on the bed.

Nothing in this day had gone right.

Not one damn thing.

Not that it hadn’t had the promise of being outstanding. 

He had woke with Tris in his arms, pressed against his side, her hand resting above his heart on his bare chest.

Memories flooded through his mind as he remembered how they had lowered themselves to the bed.

He hadn’t known it could like this.

He hadn’t fucked her yet. He had never made love to her.

He had simply kissed her.

And there was no rush. No hurry. Just a long drawn out moments where her tongue had lingered over his in a silent, exotic seduction.

He rarely worried about consequences, and even questioned his instincts less. When he had felt the need to touch her he had done so. 

And he was already paying for it. She was more than he had imagined she could be. Softer, smoother, warmer.

Addictive.

Swearing under his breath, he wrenched open his front door, stalking down the hallway before he had a chance to question his actions.

Silently he entered the initiate dorm area, weaving his way through the various beds until he reached Tris. She was curled on her side, the thin blanket covering her as she shifted restlessly in her sleep.

He leaned down, brushing his thumb over her lips, fascinated by the shape, by the flavor he imagined still lingered on his own flesh as Tris drifted between sleep and consciousness.

And it scared him.

She scared him. She made him question everything he believed to be true.

It was becoming increasingly clear that Tris Prior meant more to me than either were will to admit.

He stepped and turned his back, walking away from what she offered. What he desperately wanted to be his.

Anything that left warmth in its wake.

She was a weakness he could not afford.


	4. DECISION

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent, the book or characters. Also, the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie. I did use some dialogue from the movie and book that is not mine!

DECISION / noun / a conclusion or resolution reached after consideration

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - MED BAY  
EARLY OCTOBER  
WEDNESDAY - 6:11 P.M. 

She awoke in darkness, her vision fractured, her head sharply throbbing. She let out a slight moan, gingerly shifting her bruised body as hot, burning spears of agony radiated throughout her temples and ribs.

Convulsively she swallowed harshly, barely containing the bile burning the base of her throat, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks as reality reassembled itself in her mind.  
Her memories were vague, a series of slow black and white sequences flashing through her mind. 

“Alright, first fight - Peter and Tris.” 

Eric’s voice had been blunt, empty in its coldness, his eyes a hardened flint grey.

He had not moved, not flinched, shown no emotion or remorse at the sound of Peter's snarls of rage, the punishment her fallen body had absorbed at the brunt of his fury.

She had know what he was doing. What he felt he needed prove.

She had challenged him as a leader, almost taunting his authority in a manner by not breaking as Al would have.

He decided to regain his control, his right, his dominance in his position as Dauntless leader. 

She had to admit she was amused at how he had neatly outmaneuvered her though, waiting until she was least expecting and then extracting his revenge for her stunt.

Not that the knowledge brought her any comfort.

Cold, emotionally detached, manipulative was Eric’s nature, but every moment, every movement was done with a purpose, embedded with some sort of sensuality and masculinity.

Why had she believed she would be able to penetrate any reaction from him that was real.

Why would she have been any different than any other warm body before her.

She pushed herself into a sitting position, gasping slightly as she lowered her feet to ground, her resolve hardening with each passing moment.

“Eric says you’re done. He said you’re out.” 

Will’s voice had blurred at the sound of the blood rushing, a roaring echo throughout her ears as her friends stood, preparing to leave to catch the train to the location of the War Games, misery and pity etched in their expression.

That fucking coward. Thinking he would be able to edge her out without a fight.

As if he believed she would actually accept such an ultimatum of his part.

“It was strange though.” Christina stated, lingering as Will left the room. “Eric, that is. After Peter knocked you out, Eric stepped into the ring with him. Said something about him crossing the boundaries of cheating to win. Broke his hand and fractured his ribs. Peter only left med bay an hour before you woke up.” Christina turned to look at her, her expression questioning. “Just strange how he seems unable to leave anything involving you alone.”

In that moment she knew it was her choice, her decision. To stand up and fight for everything that she was and that had been lost or simply slink off into the corner and accept Eric’s decision that she belonged with the Factionless. 

No! The word erupted from her subconscious, reverberating through her entire body. The savagery of the instinctive reaction shook her.

She would never be that weak girl again.

Pushing herself from the med bay bed, she felt a piece of paper crumble under her hand that before had gone unnoticed.

Unfolding the note, she started at the bold black scrawl across the white paper that simply read. 

Your ass better run.

Damn him.  
\- - -  
TRAIN  
EARLY OCTOBER  
WEDNESDAY - 7:30 P.M. 

It hurt to run. 

She ignored the thought echoing in her mind as she pushed her aching legs harder, her breath hitching as she steadily gained on the train.

Four saw her, a slight grin curving his features as he leaned down, reaching his hand out which she was able to grasp and he helped swing her body into the train car.

She nodded her thanks as she stumbled slightly, catching Christina by her shoulder to steady herself.

“What are you doing here?”

“I figured that I had to make it.” Tris gasped the words out, her lungs burning, but her pride could not be denied.

“Who let you out?” Despite his icy rage that has shimmered beneath the surface for past two days, Eric’s stomach muscles contracted abruptly in reaction as he stepped closer to the petite blonde glaring at him with disdain.

“I did.” Her voice was strong, steady as she pushed her long hair from face, defiantly staring at her leader.

“Oh, you did.” His words were lightly condescending, taunting, almost amused.

His striking cerulean blue eyes locked on hers, the intense gaze darkened to a slight indigo as he caressed over her form examining angelic devils may care smile, taking note of her slightly bruised features. His skin pulled taunt over his cheekbones and unknowingly her fingers clenched on his note hidden within her pocket as he silently battled his decision, before nodding with evident satisfaction.

“Okay.”

\- - -

WAR GAMES  
EARLY OCTOBER  
WEDNESDAY - 9:00 P.M. 

Tris stood off to the side, her rifle resting across her back, her arms folded, her expression bored as she listened to her team bicker with each outlandish idea of how to find and obtain the glowing flag of Four’s team.

She let out a weary sigh, still uncertain as to why Eric had chosen her first for his team much to the chagrin of Peter. Turning, she surveyed her surrounding, pausing at the sight of the old, broken down Ferris Wheel, a reminder of days long dead.

It was obscenely large, its height, its cover would be the perfect vantage point to find the hidden location of the flag.

For a moment, she considered sharing her idea with her fellow initiates until she noticed Peter took point strategy as they gathered around him and she turned on her heel.

Fuck that. She would rather deal with the devil himself.

“Tris.” She heard his voice behind her, his steps so close to her own.

The devil indeed.

She kept walking.

“Initiate, stop.” His voice was harsh with irritation. “Consider it an order, not a request.”

She paused, her body tensing, cursing under her breath and she turned to face him.

His face was plane of defined angled, his shoulders stretched against the fabric of his black jacket, the suggestion of power emphasized by the strong line of his back tapering down to lean hips and bronzed skin, the muscular ease of his stance evident, relaxed. 

“I don’t need your help, sir. You don’t have to follow me.”

"Was there ever a question that I wouldn't?" Eric rasped, his voice rough and Tris could feel her blood stir, thickening at the sound. "Something you feel the need to say, initiate?”

"Consider it the beginning of some unfinished business we may have," she bit her lip, drawing the plump fullness between her teeth as she watched his mouth curve, slow and devilish, in that familiar smile. "But first -" Her fingers snapped in a quick cracking motion. "Fuck you, Eric, for what you did. Fuck you for siccing your bitch boy on me when I pushed against your precious rules."

His blue-silver eyes flared with something that resembled fierce satisfaction of her hand connecting against his skin and he moved his jaw, attempting to stretch out the sting.

He deserved that. And more, if he was truthful.

"Temper, temper, kitten," Eric taunted softly, his dissatisfaction for the night rapidly fading in the wake of fire as she tipped her chin, angrily staring into his amused eyes. "Proud of yourself?"

"I've only gotten started," Tris promised before turning back and beginning to climb up the tiny ladder attached to the Ferris Wheel. 

“What are you doing?” Eric rubbed a hand against the shadowy hollows of his cheeks. “You’re not planning to jump ,are you?”

"Yes, I’m planning to end it all so I don’t have to spend another moment in your presence.” She said dryly, rolling her eyes. “It’s simple really. It is the best vantage point in the area. We can see the whole grounds. Better to try this than to Peter insist he knows better than anyone of how to win this game."

“Smart girl.”

She felt his presence behind her, knowing it would be pointless to tell him him he did not need to follow her.

Nearing the top, she pushed her foot down, the rusted ladder rung giving away beneath her weight and she lost her balance, quickly slipping to the side with a gasp. 

She felt the strength of his hands on her body as they sleeked down the curve of her sides, caressing the swell of her hips as he caught her, steadying her body. Her breath swelled as he grasped her, filling his hands.

“You okay?”  
“Yes.” She said unable to hide the breathy note.

She and Eric climbed through the maze of bars, pulling themselves up until settling near the very top of the ride.

“Not scared are you?” She could not resist teasing him.

“Please. It’s Number Boy who can’t stand to have his feet off the ground.”

Tris began to scan the area, content to say little until Eric’s comment broke through the silence.

“I did what I had to do Tris.”

“I know you did, but still I can refuse to accept it.” She said quietly.

“And I refuse to be jealous of some initiate that cannot fucking man up and that will end up Factionless.”

For a moment, she was too stunned to react. She sat motionless, he couldn’t be jealous. 

she was not his. They were not together, never together, despite the fire barely contained beneath the smiles and lingering glances. 

They were forbidden. 

“Do you honestly expect me to believe you?” she asked finally, weariness in every word. “You jealous? You would never lower yourself to feel such an emotion.”

“I’m a possessive man, darling. I don’t exactly share well with others.” His tone was hard. “And I have no intention of sharing you.” 

She looked away from him, unsure of how to answer his statement, squinting off into the distance, excitement clenching in her stomach at the sight of the glowing orange flag hidden in the top of the building.

“I see it! Look at the top of the building.”

“That’s my girl.” Eric leaned forward, pressing a quick and hard kiss to her mouth. “Let’s fucking end this.”

\- - -

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - THE PIT  
EARLY OCTOBER  
WEDNESDAY - 11:17 P.M. 

Giggling she walked back towards the Pit, her arm linked through Christina’s as she enjoyed mocking Will and Al with the fact that their team had won.

Her eyes glowed with excitement, her body vibrating with energy, her hair smelling of the freedom from the wind and free-fall of the zip-line.

It had been amazing. Liberating. The shedding of all the old restrictions of Abnegation had ever placed on her.

Whether it was her, whether it was Eric, whether it was her Divergence she felt free, weightless.

She belonged in Dauntless. She knew that now.

She spotted Eric, standing with the other leaders, his posture relaxed, drink in hand as he nodded along to with whatever Lauren was saying to him, but his attention was focused solely on her.

He caught her gaze, tiling his head towards the hallway leading towards his apartment and slowly, against her better judgment, she nodded her agreement.

\- - -

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - ERIC’S APARTMENT  
EARLY OCTOBER  
WEDNESDAY - 11:42 P.M. 

Tris spun as she entered his bedroom, her eyes dancing with glee, a smile she was unable to contain curving her lips.

Eric turned to face her, running a hand through his disheveled hair, his blue eyes light with mischief. “So how do you feel?” He spread his arms out slightly, feigning a mildly shocked expression.

“I feel good,” Tris giggled, raising shining eyes to his. wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her body close to his. “I feel alive.”

“I don’t think I have ever seen you so alive.”

His words echoed through her mind, the confidence and belief in her ability, pushing her past her breaking point and knowing that she fight back, refusing to lose and she was forced in that moment to accept one terrifying fact.

She was falling in love with him.

Right or wrong. It simply was.

She felt the strength of his hands as he raised them to frame her face, his fingers tracing over the delicate yet stubborn line of her smooth jaw, his thumbs skimmed against the fluttering pulse, tilting her head, tangling and twisting the silken strands, his mouth set so temptingly close that she could all but taste him. 

He knelt down, unbuttoning her pants pulling the material and panties down her long legs as a dark red blush spilled across her cheeks.

Eric’s attention focused on his hands as they slipped upwards. Dragging the material of her shirt higher with each motion until the tan expanse of her stomach was revealed and he placed a lingering kiss on the center, his lips caressing the soft skin, lightly touching her with the tip of his tongue as she let out a tiny whimper.

He stood, dropping her shirt and bra to the ground, turning her to face the mirror on his wall, placing his hands on the curve of her hips, pulling her back against his lean body.

“Look at yourself.” He ordered, holding her gaze in the mirror. “Your so fucking beautiful.” 

She stared at her reflection, forcing herself to not look away. Eric watched her through narrow eyes, the intense quality of his gaze burning her. There was no embarrassment or apology in his expression.

He was a man and reacted as such and he was in the mood to play.

Ribbons of her dusky skin peeked through the long honey blonde strands sprawled across her shoulders in a silken tangled mess, slipping to reveal the curves of her full breasts, the hardened rose-colored tips, the shallow groove of her stomach.

His hands slipped down and cupped her breasts that had taunted him, aching for his touch. His palms burned her, his thumbs massaging around and over her nipples in a circular motion that made her moan aloud.

“I want you to touch yourself, Tris. For me.” The dark husky tone of his voice made her shiver, his lips brushing against her ear as he growled. “Do it now.”

Trembling, she stroked her palms over her slender thighs, her movements slow, revealing to her an unobstructed view of her bare mound. Her hand dropped, her fingers caressing the exposed skin, taunting him.

Eric’s rasping curse faded, a strangled breath catching in the back of his throat as she grew bolder, two fingers slipping over the slick folds and into the snug cleft.

His hand angled down over her stomach to curve around her hips, sliding beneath her own fingers, caressing the soft, damp flesh, feeling her swell beneath.

“This for me?” He cupped her wet warmth, his voice teasing.

She whimpered leaning her head on his shoulder as he continued to caress the tight warmth.

“Do you like being so wicked, Tris?” She nodded, unable to speak. “Then maybe I should stop.”

Tris cried out hoarsely, covering his fingers with hers, coating them together in her sticky wetness as she pressed him deeper, her body milking against the invasion.

“Greedy bitch,” he murmured, harshly sucking against her neck. 

His fingers reached deep inside of her, rasping her delicate inner folds. Helplessly she arched her hips again, taking his touch deeper, watching their movements in the mirror.

He continued to circle and rub with his thumb, tormenting her clit and she leaned forwards, her hands gripping the edge of his dresser, thrusting her hips back against his fingers, grinding helplessly.

He was breathing heavily, his normally bright eyes darkened to almost a navy in desire. He eyes scanned over her body before yanking her into his arms, his mouth capturing hers, hard, hot, deep and wet. He could feel his heartbeat as a separate surge of blood roaring in his ears as his tongue sucked on hers. Tris was wrapped her arms around his neck, his mouth was driving her crazy, making her body tremble and her head spin.

Their harsh breathing filled the room and they slowly began to walk backwards, not breaking the kiss.

Tris’s legs soon hit the bed and she fell backwards followed by his hard body. Eric caught his weight on his hands so he wouldn’t crush her small figure.

Slowly he leaned forward, letting his body touch hers, lightly pressing down on her, and his mouth closed over her in a tenderness that was devastating.

His lips left hers, slid hotly down her throat to her breast, snipping delicately, sucking hard. She sank into a dark pool of need as his mouth moved over her trembling stomach muscles, his tongue probed her shallow navel. She made an incoherent sound of panic, of helpless anticipation.

“Mine.” Eric murmured.

Then he kissed her, his mouth hot and wet, his tongue swirling around as he gripped her bottom, pulling her tighter, his tongue stabbing deep within. Her back arched, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling the strands harshly, her body clenched, surging wildly as she shook in uncontrollable waves, moaning him name.

Her body was still trembling as he unbuckled his pants and braced himself on his arm, staring down at her. His fingers lightly caressed her sensitive wetness before using his slick hand to stroke his manhood and with a guttural moan, his seed spilled across her lower stomach, thick and warm.

He groaned, collapsing next to her and watched her scope his cum of her fingertip, placing the digit in her mouth, licking away the taste.

You okay?” he asked softly watching as her heavy eyelids fluttered and gently she smiled, burying her nose in his chest as if embarrassed by her actions. “Are you blushing?”

“Shut up,” she hissed, her cheeks reddening further but she shrieked with laughter as he began to tickle her bare side. “Maybe next time you might consider letting me have a taste.”

“Fucking tease,” he murmured, placing a kiss on her damp shoulder before opening an eye to stare at her. “How do you feel about waffles?”

\- - -

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - ERIC’S APARTMENT  
EARLY OCTOBER  
THURSDAY - 12:58 A.M

She refused to cook topless as Eric kept insisting was necessary instead settling on wearing her grey tank top and panties as she moved around his kitchen, preparing waffles at his insistence.

Eric sat on the counter in his boxers, lightly strumming a scarred acoustic guitar he had painstakingly reassembled from rubble found among the Factionless, making up silly verses that caused her giggle and roll her eyes.

She had never believed this playful side of Eric could exist. 

She placed his much needed waffle next to his leg and she tilted her head towards his, meeting his lips as they pressed together, clinging, his tongue lightly tracing against hers. 

“Hey.” he whispered, his forehead rested against hers.

“Mmm,” Tris licked his lips, enjoying his taste, her eyes drifting closed. “Hi.”

Their banter was abruptly cut off by the pounding on his front door, so rapid it shook the hinges.

Tris immediately stepped back, heading towards his bedroom, to from hide from plain sight as Eric moved to answer the door.

“Hello Four.” Eric’s tone resigned, coated in annoyance. “Something I can help you with?”


	5. SEDUCTRESS

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent, the book or characters. Also, the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie.

SEDUCTRESS: noun / a woman who seduces someone, especially one who entices a man into sexual activity

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND   
EARLY OCTOBER  
THURSDAY - 10:05 A.M

Tris slowly woke, burying her head deep into her pillow to avoid the bright sunlight streaming through the windows, letting out a soft sigh as she stretched her sore body, digging her toes into the mattress.

She knew she was being lazy by refusing to get out of bed, something her Abnegation upbringing would have frowned upon, attesting that it was selfish to sleep later than necessary when there were those that had no such soft place to rest.

But Dauntless had generously granted the initiates a free day to do as they wished as the first stage came to a close, and after her narrow escape last night from Eric’s apartment she figured it was best to stay in her bed.

She giggled softly, remembering his annoyed expression as he had stalked into his bedroom, angrily pulling on his clothes. It was her fault he had insisted since Christina had awoken to find Tris missing from her bed and had so graciously taken it upon herself to notify Four who then began the search for the missing Abnegation girl.

She had waited at Eric’s instruction for ten minutes, before sneaking from his room and up to the the roof as if she were part of some secret undercover mission. From there she had waited to be found, feigning sleep as Four had woken her, demanding to know what she had was doing. She had used the flimsy excuse that she had wanted to escape the noise of the Pit, clear her head over the events that had taken place over the past few days only to fall asleep in the process.

It was a pathetic story, thankfully for her, Four did not press the issue.

Tris rolled onto her back, stretching her arms above her head, opening her eyes and gasped slightly at the sight of Christina impatiently sitting on the corner of the bed. She sighed, wearily motioning with her hand for the former Candor to start her prepared rant.  
She knew what was to come.  
“I know that there must be some reason as to why you have that smug ass grin on your face, but that’s not really my concern right now.” Christina snapped accusingly, her arms crossed. “You missed breakfast by the way, but I’m assuming you must be exhausted from your late night excursions.”

Tris barely contained her eye roll, grumbling under breathe about lack of boundaries as she stood, slipping on her black leggings.

“Christina, if you have something to say, I really wish you would get on with it at some point.” She leaned down, lacing her black combat boots, her voice tense with annoyance. “Not that I don’t enjoy the little judgmental looks and comments you feel the need to make this morning.”

“Well then where were you last night? The real answer, preferably. Not that I didn’t enjoy the bullshit excuse you gave to Four.” Christina demanded as she snapped to her feet, her hands clenching on her waist, anger flushing her mocha skin in her annoyance.

“The truth as to where I was last night is none of your concern. It doesn’t involve you in any way.”

“I’m your friend, Tris. I’m just worried about you.”

“Okay Chris, you want the truth?” Tris turned, anger flashing across her smooth features, tossing her arms helplessly out to the side. “I went to Eric a weeks ago and asked for his help in training so I could get through the first stage of initiation and not end up Factionless. And because of this I have sneaking around with him and doing deliciously, dirty things that no good girl from Abnegation would ever dream of doing.”

Angrily she pulled on her grey tank top, twisting her long hair into a messy bun. “Are you satisfied now? Is that a good enough explanation for you?”

Christina started at her in shock, her mouth slightly hanging open, before she began to laugh, clutching her side.

“Wow, that’s really the best you can come up with? Eric helps you and you become his love slave.”

“It’s the truth.” Tris said, her voice resigned.

“Okay, I believe you then and maybe one day you’ll tell me the truth.” Christina shrugged. “I guess that would explain why Eric carried you in the into the room last night and not Four. I was pretty sure that Four was all about the hero saving the damsel in distress role.”

Because Eric would have probably broken Four’s fingers if he had even dared to touch her.

Besides, it was not a question of whoever asked Eric Coulter, he simply took.

Tris paused, looking down at Christina’s unhappy expression and an uneasy thought crossed her mind.

“What exactly is this all about, Chris? All the questions and accusations? Do you like Eric?”

“What, ew, no, ew.” Christina denied, disgust flaring across her features and Tris choose ignore the relief she felt. “He tried to kill me.

“He didn’t try to kill you.”

“What do you call allowing me to dangle over the chasm by my fingertips?”

“I call it being Dauntless. He did it to teach you to be brave, to not give up. It worked didn’t it?” Tris reasoned, rising an eyebrow.

“Possibly,” Christina mumbled. “But regardless of that fact, Eric’s is not who I am interested.”

“Will?”

“Please he’s a boy playing at being a man.” Christina took a deep breath, grabbing Tris’ hands in hers. “Can you be a girl for like two minutes? I need some girly help.”

“I can be a girl.” Tris snapped. “Dammit, I’m girly.”

“Sure you. Okay well if you have become Eric’s love slave then how exactly do you suggest I seduce Four?”

Huh, well, Tris had not been expecting that.

\- - -

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - ERIC’S OFFICE  
EARLY OCTOBER  
THURSDAY - 2:41 P.M

Tris walked into the Leadership office, glancing around the quiet room, seeing one door that lead into Max’s office and the other at the opposite end that lead into Eric’s.

In the center was a large desk with a young man seated behind it, looking bored, twirling a strand of shockingly red hair around his finger.

“Hmm, let’s see. Innocent young girl like you, you must be here to see Trouble No. 1.” He said, a smirk curling his lips.

“I take it the cold-hearted leader in charge of us mere initiates is Trouble No. 1.”

“Cold in public, but I bet he’s a wildcat in the bedroom.” The man sighed wistfully and against her better judgment she began to giggle. “Don’t deny it, darling, you know it's true.”

“What are you doing here, initiate.” Eric said, standing the doorway of his office, watching her attempt to contain her amusement with a raised brow. “Are you lost?”

“I believe it was you that summoned me,” Tris held up the folder white paper she had received during lunch. “And I have simply arrived ever eager to do your bidding, sir.”

She watch as laughter quickly flared in his eyes before being extinguished, his features smoothed out and he stepped to side, gesturing her into his office.

“No interruptions.” He ordered, snapping the door shut behind him.

“Lucky bitch.”

The door had barely shut before he yanked her into his arms, his mouth capturing hers, hard, hot, deep and wet. He could feel his heartbeat as a surge of blood roaring in his ears echoed as he sucked on her tongue. Tris wrapped her arms around his neck, his mouth making her body tremble and her head spin.

Eric broke the heated kiss to allow her and himself a moment to breath.

“Your assistant has a crush on you.” Tris giggled, her fingers sliding into his hair.

“Well can you blame him.” Eric growled, pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. “Unfortunately for him I have my on an initiate with a smartass mouth who finds it impossible to stay out of trouble.”

“Well she sounds amazing in my opinion.” Tris leaned forward, using the tip of her tongue to lightly trace a leadership tattoo along his neck.

 

“So did you soothe Christina’s ruffled feathers.” Eric groaned, his fingers gripping her hips, pulling her tightly against his body.

“I told her the truth.”

“You did and what did she have to say?”

“She laughed and told me it was a good story. She had other concerns like in wanting my help to seduce Four.”

“I don’t think so.” Eric pulled back from her, possessive blue snapping at her.

“Why not? It’s not like I’m seducing him for my pleasure.

“Because,” he growled as she walked him backward, pushing him into his chair. “I don’t like the way he looks at you much less feels free to touch you.”

“Please, Eric,” she leaned down, grasping the arms of his chair before lowering herself to her knees between his spread legs. “Pretty please. Let me be such a good friend.”

This untamable heat. She wanted it now.

Eric could not respond, his normally bright eyes darkened to almost navy in desire, not with her image of her pouting at him etching into his memory. Her lower lip was stuck out slightly, her dark eyes staring innocently into his as she tangled her fingers in his belt loop and grasped at his zipper and she unraveled the flap. He smirked as her eyes grew at the sight of his shaft stirring, to grow thick and long. His potent reaction of his body simply by looking at her waived her resistance to win her argument more than any cajoling on his part. 

She slid her hands into the opening, cupping the heavyweight of his sex as she began to stroke his length, leaning forward, her tongue glided over of the thin trail of hair from his naval.

He tried to control his breathing as felt her hot breath wash over him and gripped the arms of the chair tightly. She began to nuzzle the head, daintily licking the tip, moaning she tasted the pearly white cum that dripped. He felt her hair caress his thighs as she dipped her head further down, instead of enclosing her mouth around him, she traced her tongue up his length and around the base. Slowly drawing her mouth up, her teeth lightly scraping the underside and her tongue caressing the head.

“Fuck Tris,” he hissed groaning. “More.”

She opened her mouth, flexing her cheeks and glided her head down, her lips stretching to accommodate him, her hands pushing his thighs further apart. Eric titled his head to get a better view as his hips moved in synchronized haste with her tongue and mouth, her fingertips barely stroking his inner thighs.

Without thinking he moved his hips forward as she came down on him forcing himself further into her mouth. Eric moaned loudly, clenching his fingers in her hair, blindly thrusting into mouth, holding her head as he fucked her throat. Tris took what he gave, before he stiffened, thick amounts of cum squirting as she swallowed without a compliant.

Lapping at the excess of liquid around him, she smiled wide and almost placed a chaste kiss on the tip. Raising her head up to him, she laughed silently as he panted heavily and tried to regain his composure. Licking her lips, she stood up straddling his hips and her tongue lingering over his for a time, moving slowly and deeply. 

Wanting to taste himself on her, he sucked on her tongue and drumming up the moisture that disappeared at her ministrations, she clenched her legs around him and tucked her hair behind her ear. Eric stood, their mouths firmly planted together, her legs wrapping around his waist as he leaned her back on the desk, his hand slipping beneath her leggings, his fingers brushing against wet material of her panties, when the insistent ringing finally registered in his hazed mind.

“What?” Eric snarled, yanking up the phone. “I told you not to interrupt me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but Jeanine Matthews is most insistent to see you.”


	6. BROKEN

NOTE: Thanks for reading! This starts off the day after Eric’s meeting with Jeanine which you’ll find about later, but for now let the mind games begin.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent, the book or characters. Also, the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie.

BROKEN: verb / having been fractured or damaged and no longer in one piece or in working order.

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - ERIC’S APARTMENT  
EARLY OCTOBER  
FRIDAY - 9:00 P.M.

A quivering mass of tension and dread coiled in her stomach and she knew her color had faded, leaving her face pale and cold.

Her breath came out in quick, hard gasps, the bottom of her stomach clenching and dropping, and she closed her eyes as if that would change what she had seen.

What made her sick.

Eric was standing in front of his apartment, Lauren pressed against his chest, her mouth locked on his, hungrily moving over it.

Betrayal burned inside of her, anger causing her fingers to curl and dig her nails into the palms of her hands, she was unable to contain the light gasp that drew the attention of the intimate couple as they broke apart.

A thin bubble of hysterical laughter rapidly swelled in her chest as Lauren made a big production of wiping to corners of her mouth and straightening her shirt as she strutted past Tris who was resisting the urge to grab her hair and bring her smirking expression directly into her knee.

“Something I can help you with, Stiff?” His tone sounded resigned, his face was expressionless, his blue eyes guarded. “I

“What the hell is wrong with you? Did you...” Her voice was faint, stammering, hurt washing across her confused features. “Did you sleep with her?”

“I fail to see how my fucking or not fucking her is any of your concern. But no I didn’t.” Eric shrugged carelessly, unlocking his front door attempting to shut it quickly but Tris managed to catch it with her hand.

“My business?” She echoed, her brows crinkling in confusion. “I don’t understand. I thought these past weeks would have given me all the rights I needed. What happened since I left your bed this morning?”

Everything and nothing all the same, Eric thought.

“Tris, I thought what you witnessed would have have made it obvious, but let me explain it in the simplest of terms. You have been replaced.” His voice was soft, the velvety sound chilling as he spoke. “Our little game has reached its conclusion.

“Our game?”

“This dance you started by offering me use of that sweet little body in exchange for my help. It was fun for a time, bending you, molding and twisting you as I saw fit.” A smirk twisted his lips as she dropped her eyes. “You could give me everything and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Rage hit her swiftly as her hand lashed out, slapping him, the sound sharp in the room. She put all her strength into the blow, his teeth snapping together, snarling his head whipped back around, glaring at her as he stretched his jaw, the dark red imprint of his hand evident on his face.

She was looking him in the eye now, as he wanted, but he didn’t see any love or lust in her face. She was white and trembling with anger, her eyes like amber fire. 

“So it was a game this whole time? That it meant nothing to you.” She went up on tiptoe and thrust her face close to his. “You’re a liar.”

Eric let out a harsh, sarcastic laugh at her assumption. “Did you really think that I would give up my freedom, jeopardize my position, my rank for you, for some lost little girl?” His voice changed from dangerously soft to viciously sharp. “You made it so laughingly simple. A few gentle words, some soft kisses and you were all too willing to use that sweet mouth on me.”

“So that is all you wanted from me?” Her voice broke, her thoughts racing, replaying every moment, analyzing each touch, trying to pinpoint the second it had all changed. “To win a game I didn’t even know we were playing? To prove some kind of point?”

“It worked didn’t it? That after everything, each little trick, you still didn’t make me cum hard enough to make you worth it.” His voice was almost soundless, his hand lashing out to the side, emphasizing his point. If this is what was needed to make her understand her position then so be it. “It was a mistake. You were a mistake.”

He had played her like the expert he was. 

He moved in, he took control, he walked away.

It was that simple, that clean, and that terrible.

She would not buckle to him, not give him the satisfaction of her tears. That much she promised herself.

She stared at him wordlessly, his eyes blazing with unreasonable anger. He reached out, grabbing her arm and yanking her forward and she couldn’t move as she brought her hands to his lower stomach. Her breath caught in the back of her throat as her fingers pressed into the firm muscles attempting to push him back, but he refused to move, only leaning in closer.

“You always have a witty comeback, Tris, what’s wrong?” Eric reached out, his fingers encircling her slender wrist, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t want to admit how easily gullible you are? Ashamed at what you did?”

Her face had paled, her lips bloodless, her dry eyes a blank void, her features smoothing. Her whole body had stilled, withdrawing within herself without actually moving, protecting herself from his next assault.

An unwanted fear slid over Eric’s skin, stirring the hair on his nape. He had seen her so many ways before – exhausted, furious, passionate, laughing – but never like this, never so completely indifferent. 

She looked broken.  
“Bravo, you had me fooled. You won. You beat me.” Tris said grimly, her voice was sharp as shattered glass, her hand steady as she calmly detached Eric’s fingers from her forearm. “I bet you had a good laugh about it too. But shame on me for such a mistake, because I knew better and I still didn’t care.”

She should have known better, but she had allowed herself to be blinded by her feelings.

She had forgotten his sadistic nature.

Her mistake.

“One day you’re going to wake up and this illusion will be gone. And you’ll be alone.” She calmly turned, dignity cloaking her as she walked to the door, her words finishing what they once were. “I trusted you, I believed you. I would have done anything you asked. How does it feel to know that I’m already gone?”

\- - - 

THE TRAIN  
EARLY OCTOBER  
FRIDAY - 10:45 P.M.

Her legs burned as she ran through the rain, her fingers reaching for the train, desperation giving her strength as she hoisted herself up, stumbling to her knees in the privacy the empty car provided her.

If she didn’t move, if she didn’t breathe then maybe the pain shimmering below the surface would not exist. 

She saw nothing but the emptiness existing within her and one simple truth she had ignored. 

He had never been hers.

She needed to forget, believe that he had never been any more than a meaningless, forgotten fucking mistake.

Forget that she loved him.

She shivered, gasping as bitter, hot tears broke her will, dripping down her cheeks, threatening her with the fact that she might never be warm again.

She would cry once for love lost, for the taste of what could have been.

Once is all she would allow.

\- - - 

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - ERIC’S APARTMENT  
EARLY OCTOBER  
FRIDAY - 11:59 P.M.

Eric leaned forward and put his head in his hands, harshly cursing, fingers digging into his hair, trying to not think or feel. 

He had done exactly what he set out to do, proving that he did not need her. 

That she had been his pawn, some game and nothing more.

And he had proved to her that he wasn’t worth caring about.

He had accomplished his goal brilliantly.

And the aftermath tasted bittersweet.

\- - - 

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND  
MID-OCTOBER  
FRIDAY - 3:33 P.M.

She sat up, grasping frantically at her throat for breath when she felt Four’s hand on her shoulder anchoring her back to reality.

The fear stimulations were becoming more intense, delving deeper into the mind than ever before.

And today she had almost drowned. 

Drowned in pity, hopelessness, drowned in a cage that she couldn’t escape.

Her heart was a traitor. She was begging for him to come, to save her, to take her away. He had also hurt her, but her mind refused to listen.  
Tris quickly stood, walking to the door, feeling as if she were crawling in her skin.

“It took ten minutes. You’re longest stimulation yet.”

Ten minutes. Still faster than any other initiate, but an eternity for her.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her face strained with dark shadows under her eyes.

“How did you do it? Stop the water?” Four’s question stopped her, her hand clenching on the door handle.

“I don’t know. I just did it. I just broke the glass.”

“Tris, Dauntless wouldn’t defeat the stimulation by just breaking the glass. You have to learn to control your thoughts, if not you won’t pass the final test. You won’t be Factionless, you’ll be dead.”

She said nothing further, opening the door and stalking down the hallway.

“You’ll be dead.” Four’s pensive tone echoed through her mind, reminding her of a painful fact she could not ignore.

Her Divergence could get her killed.

At this moment, she wondered if it would be the worst option.

\- - - 

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - THE PIT  
MID-OCTOBER  
SUNDAY - 11:19 A.M.

The murmurs came almost immediately as Tris strode across the Pit, her posture confident, her expression one of carelessness, her attitude daring one to say a word.

It had been two weeks since Eric had broken her, taken what was good in her and shattered it with his game.

And it hurt.

It still did more ways than she wanted to admit.

But she was back, stitched together at the seams, gone were the tattered emotions, the torn feelings. She was stronger, forever changed, but stronger. 

Gone was the girl who looked so brittle, one wondered if she would break at any given moment.  
Quiet weakness was for the timid. And she simply refused to comply to that status ever again.

She looked good, thanks to Christina’s clever hand, and for once, she actually believed it.

Her tight black shirt that revealed a thin expansion of her toned stomach plunged into a deep V into the center of her cleavage. Her black leggings had been shredded with side slits that went from her ankles to her thighs as she elongated her legs in her newly acquired black ankle platform boots.

Her hair had been straightened, fell down her back, incandescent honey colored strands that twisted and shimmered with each movement of her petite body.

She stopped center of the Pit, her gaze filling with disgust at the sight of Peter, Drew and Molly gathered at their table who were blatantly glaring before turning to comment to the person next to them whether friend or foe.

She had heard the rumors that they have been spreading, attempting to turn her friends against her.

That she had found a way to cheat the test.

She didn’t cheat the fear landscape she just simply knew it wasn’t true. Her Divergence allowed her to think no other way. A fact she would never willingly share with her friends knowing what it could mean. Knowing it could result in their deaths.

She was protecting them from her very self.

As she approached her friends table, Will moved to the side so that she was able to sit next to him, dropping a muscular arm across her shoulder.

“There’s my favorite troublemaker.” Will smiled with satisfaction at the sound of her laughter, grunting slightly as she dug a sharp elbow into his side. “Cause anybody to cry today?”

“Sadly no, but the hour is still young.” She reached out, breaking off the corner of Christina’s Dauntless cake and she closed her eyes, savoring the taste of the chocolate.

“How’s your head?” Christina asked, concern filtering through her tone as she observed her friend.

“It’s okay, I promise.” Tris sighed softly. “No more kid gloves, please. Besides we should talk about something else, anything else but me.”

“That’s right. Let’s not talk about the top-seated initiate.” Peter’s voice cut across their conversation as he came to a stop next to her table. “Let’s not talk about what she did to deserve such a ranking. What little favors she called in to get there. How good she was on her knees.”

“Am I supposed to be offended by your assumptions, Peter, because honestly, I stopped listening halfway through your rant.” Tris slipped out her seat, facing the boy who considered himself a legend in his own mind.

“Admit it, Tris.” Peter loudly stated, drawing the attention of the surrounding initiates. “Admit what you did.”

“Admit that you fucked him to get ahead.” Molly said, her voice high as she also stood, attempting to intimidate Tris with her size. “Admit it.”

“Don’t be such a bitch.” Christina spat angrily as Tris rolled her eyes.

“Admit it!” Molly pressed, flipping her middle finger in Christina’s direction.

“Okay, okay, I admit. I admit the truth.” Molly smirked with evident satisfaction until Tris rocked back on her heels, a mocking smile curving the corner of her lips. “I admit that Eric and I were never more than a fantasy that you dreamed up in your obviously pathetic mind. Not friends, not lovers, not anything.“

They had been something more, something darker, something deeper. Something undefined.

She stepped forward, standing directly in front of Molly, no apology in her expression.  
“Now it’s your turn, Molly Moo. This is about that even if there had ever been anything worth mentioning between Eric and I, you’re angry that it wasn’t you. You’re angry that Eric doesn’t want to fuck you, that Peter didn’t want to touch you even after you tried to get him drunk and slip into his bed.” Tris tapped a finger to her chin as Molly sputtered, her stunned eyes growing wide. “This is about the fact that I have physically embarrassed your during our fights. Not once but twice.“ Her voice was a singsong tone, taunting in its nature, a smirk curving her lips. “And you can’t stand the fact that I could do it again, if I wanted. Whenever I wanted.”

"I heard you were the toy of his latest game. Try not to take it heart, it’s happened to the best of them." Molly whispered under her breath. “Whore.”

Tris could feel her control snap as she reached up, wrapping her hand into Molly’s hair and her foot lashing out, connecting sharply to the side of her knee, using the hold as her leverage as Molly’s legs crumbled beneath her. She heard the gasps of surprise as she let go on Molly’s hair and gripped her chin, staring into her stunned eyes, daring her to play.

“Do I have your attention now?”

Molly nodded frantically.

“Good, then you should listen and listen well. Do not fuck with me.” Tris warned. “I don’t give a damn how big and bad you consider yourself to be. I will drop you.”  
“You’re crazy,” Molly snapped.

“I prefer to think of myself as deliciouslyy mad.”

Molly drew in a furious breath, turning on her heel and stalking across the Pit in humiliated fury, her friends trailing behind her.

“Well that was fun?” Will said, his tone questioning “Anyone else notice the sudden silence?”

“Do we have an issue?” Christina demanded, looking around at the surrounding Dauntless members and initiates who nodded in agreement. “Good, then face forward, children.”  
“Tris.” Eric’s voice cut through their banter and laughter. 

Tris ignored him. She didn’t know that he wanted of her. She didn’t want to know. His presence threatened the emotional numbness that was all that protected her from being overwhelmed. She could cope with the rest of the world, after a fashion. But not Eric not in any manner.

Eric on the other hand could barely contain his snarl of displeasure at the sight of her luminous eyes, her face glowing with satisfaction. He had itched to stalk across and yank her out from under Will’s arm.

He knew he was being hypocritical considering this is what he wanted.  
“Now initiate.” 

“Something you needed, boss man, or are you here to just waste my time?” She seared him with a look of contempt, her tapered chin that tilted in a stubborn challenge towards him. "Besides judging from your expression, I dare say you've missed me."

"Is that so?" His own needs thickened his voice until there was a darkened edge to it. The timbre of his voice, the dilated glitter of his cause caused her to move. "You done pulling the kitty's tail now and terrorizing your fellow initiates?"

"Spoilsport, I was playing nice. Molly’s big girl, I’m sure she can handle the truth." She muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her darkly glossed lips pouting. "I can’t help it if they have tender and delicate feelings.”

"Perhaps," Eric agreed, rubbing a hand against his jaw, the shadowy hollows of his cheeks. "You're asking for trouble."

"Idle threats, Coulter, I'm not scared. Besides you’ve lost that privilege to order me about. That moment is long dead."

She certainly had changed.

Eric recognized that fact immediately, so intense, so potent he felt the thickening of his blood, his loins.

“I wasn’t done talking.”

She cast him a wicked smile and stepped the side with her hands grasped behind her back, she skipped out of the Pit.

“That’s a shame because I was done pretending to listen.”

Tris turned and leaned forward, locking eyes with Eric before blowing him a mocking kiss. 

Let the games begin.


	7. TARNISHED

NOTE: Thank you so much for all the reviews and favorites - you guys are the best. On that note, I do want to mention this chapter is a little darker. It deals with the attack in the Chasm and I needed to be a little more in order for the next chapters to occur - soon the very first chapter and Eric’s reason to push Tris away will be very clear! I just want to give it that so you are warned.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent, the book or characters. Also, the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie.

TARNISHED: verb / make or become less valuable or respected.

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND  
MID-OCTOBER  
TUESDAY - 10:00 A.M.

“Beatrice.”

It was the voice she had heard in her dreams, yearned for since her blood had sizzled against the black stone during the Choosing Ceremony.

It was the voice she had craved to hear to help chase the darkness and the ache of first heartbreak away.

Her mother. 

The family she left behind.

“Mom,” Tris’s voice trembled as she raced across the room and flung herself into the waiting arms of her mother, holding on tight as her heart pounded in a rhythm of confused excitement.

She smiled, burying her face against her mother’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of sunshine and linen. It felt as if she could finally breath after weeks of uncertainty.

“Look at you,” Natalie Prior said drawing back, her hands cupping Tris’s face. “So strong,so beautiful.”

“I’ve missed you.”

“It’s okay, darling, we can be together soon. All of us.”

“I don’t understand.” Tris asked, her brow wrinkling in confusion. “How is that possible?”

“It’s easy,” Natalie told her, stepping back, a soft smile curving her features. “You just have to do one thing, one selfish deed.”

Tris could feel her spine slowly stiffening, uncertainty creeping through her as her mother’s tone changed, taking on a hard edge.

“You have to kill him.”

Her father and Caleb stepped aside, revealing Eric kneeling behind them, his hands bound behind his back. He didn’t look worried, he was far to proud to show such an emotion.

“You have to kill him.” Natalie said, handing her the gun. “It’s the only way.”

“What? No!” Tris snapped, stepping back.

“Kill him. Do it now.”

“Mother, I said no.”

“You ungrateful little bitch. Do as I say, do it now! It’s the only you’ll be free.” Her mother’s features twisted in anger and disappointment, strands of her brown hair straggling from her bun framing her flushed face. “It’s the only way you’ll keep your dirty little secret.”

Tris held the gun to her own head, knowing it was the only way. She was not scared of her own death.

“No.”

And she pulled the trigger.

Gasping, Tris’s eyes snapped open as she sat up, her gaze frantically searching for Eric, for her family, instead she met Four’s steady gaze as he pursued his lips at her.

“So that’s the why it is. You’re deepest fear.” He nodded, as if coming to some sort of understanding his mind. “You love Eric. And it terrifies you.”

“No, loving him doesn’t terrify me. That part is simply easy.” A sad small curved Tris’s lips. “Losing him does.”

\---

ERUDITE COMPOUND  
MID-OCTOBER  
TUESDAY - 2:15 P.M.

She walked through the front doors of the Erudite headquarters, ignoring the looks she received as her attention was drawn to the chrome and glass, the quietness so unlike the loud and violent atmosphere of Dauntless.

She had left Dauntless after her fear stimulation and talk with Tori about Divergents, the need to see her brother overrunning her logic that Erudite was looking to overthrow the government and killing those they deemed as different.

Caleb walked down towards, clothed in blue, his brow wrinkling in distaste at sight of her dress and disarray. Briefly, he hugged her, before pulling her to the side, out of the earshot of those listening.

“I’m in trouble.”

“What’s happened?” He asked, his dark brows drawing low over his eyes.

“I don’t fit in there. I can’t.” Tris bit her lip, barely resisting the urge to blurt out her secret. “I’m not like them.”

“Who is? They’re crazy.” Caleb laughed slightly and Tris barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the judgmental sound.

“Maybe I can go back to Abnegation.”

“You can’t do that. They will never let you.”

“Who?”

“Erudite. They are not going to let Abnegation break anymore rules.”

“They actually think they are in charge of the government.” Tris said and Caleb’s face hardened at her ungrateful tone.

“They might be soon. Certainly better than Abnegation.

“Caleb how can you say that. That is our family.” Tris’s said.

“Because I believe in Jeanine, I believe in her cause and if our past needs to burn for the greater good than so be it.”

“Caleb, what has happened to you? This isn’t you.” She stared at him, searching for a flicker of the brother she once knew.

“Oh dear sister it is. I’ll give you this advice, leave today and we’ll forget this little visit ever happened. I’ll make sure this does not get back to Jeanine, but from now on you need to keep your mouth shut and stay in line. Understand?” Caleb advised, his features hardened, his tone resolved.

Her brother was gone.

“Faction before Blood, Tris. Learn and accept it.”

\---

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - THE CHASM  
MID-OCTOBER  
TUESDAY - 8:45 P.M.

Silently she walked back into Dauntless, avoiding the Pit the best she could, taking the way closest to the Chasm. 

She wanted to lay down and forget this fucked up day. 

Forget her deepest fear. Forget her brother had turned his back to her in favor of Erudite. Forget she had seen Eric in conference with Jeanine Matthews on her escorted department of the Faction’s headquarters.

She didn’t hear the noise behind her or sense the she was being followed until she turned the corner and walked right into the trap that had been set for her.

The full force of his arm was behind the blow, slamming her around, as his fist connected to the side of her face, blood filtering through her mouth, sweet and warm. She collapsed against the jagged rock wall of the Chasm, her cheek scraping against the rough surface, her legs buckling beneath her as she slid to the floor, the bright shock of pain blinding her. Black fog clouded the edges of her vision, a dull roaring filling her ears as she dropped the knit hat she had managed to rip off of one of her assailants.

“You stupid bitch,” Peter hissed as he towered over her, his face pale and sweating, twisted in rage, his fists clenching, his green eyes blazing in disgusted fury. “This could have been easy, maybe even quick, but no, no,” he leaned down wrapping his fingers through her long hair, twisting the length of her ponytail around his wrist, using the leverage to jerk her back to her feet. “You just had to go and complicate it.”

Her face throbbed, her tongue felt thick, desperation driving her as she beat at him, slapping, clawing whatever flesh she could reach, attempting to free herself from his tight grasp.

Peter harshly laughed at her vain efforts before striking her once more, his hand slicing across her cheek before anchoring her hands above her head with a fist, his body heavily pushing her down. 

“Fuck you Peter.” Tris spat the words at him, smiling almost sweetly, knowing what it would cost her but she would be damned before she begged him. “It only takes three of you to beat me. You’ll always be second place little bitch.”

“And you’re a cock tease.” he whispered into her ear, dragging his tongue around the outer rim, his free hand clawing, tearing at the front of her top, revealing glimpse of her breasts to his hungry gaze through the tone material. “Going around acting like you’re the fucking best, taunting us with what we can’t have. How does it feel, Tris? How does it feel to get exactly what you deserve and no one is here to protect and save you?”

Peter forced his hand between her clenched thighs, his fingers rough and probing, hurting her and he let out a demented moan of satisfaction. She made an explosive sound of rage, twisting as she tried to sink her teeth into the arm holding her captive, but he jerked out of her reach without loosening his grip. He was too strong and she was still to numb to protect herself.

"This wasn't part of the plan," Tris heard the quivering voice of the other one of the masked assailants. "We were just going to scare her."

She knew that voice. She knew that whimpering tone. She heard every night from the bed so close to her, crying for the decision he had made.

Albert.

Al, her fucking friend, who had not only betrayed her but but now was going standing by as she was raped by the boy she despised above all.

"And now we're going to fuck her, then kill her." Peter started, licking his lips in appreciation as Al slid down the wall by her feet, his hands covering his ears, attempting to block out the noises surrounding him. "Hold her down."

"Hurt her, Peter." Drew, ripped off his mask, letting out a high pitched laugh, as he knelt down holding her ankles. 

He began to undo his pants, shoving the black material down his hips and thighs. “You’re going to scream.” he promised darkly, smelling what he believed to be fear radiating from her.

Her fear had transformed into rage at his toying words and she felt her body tensing as she saw her only opportunity for a potential escape as he looked down.

She raised her head, her sharp teeth barred and sinking into the skin, gripping the tendons of his neck, breaking flesh, snarling in her desperation.

He screamed.

A sound mimicking a squealing pig, causing her teeth clamp down deeper, his blood pouring down her chin until she released her hold and he fell to the side, groaning. 

"Help!" Tris screamed, her voice cracking, twisting desperately against the tight hold Drew had on her ankles. 

"Help-" The words were cut short as Drew stood quickly thrust his thick tongue into her open mouth, gagging her. Tris choked on the vile taste, preparing to sink her teeth down, but he was yanked back from her.

Tris crumbled, her legs giving way her as she heard the sickening crack of Eric’s fist connecting with Drew’s jaw. She shook her head, attempting to clear the gray fog clouding her mind, watching as the two men struggled against one another.

“Come boy,” Eric taunted. “Some me how a real man fights.”

He’s going to kill him, she thought dazedly, as Eric brought his fist down again, holding a nearly unconscious Drew up by the front of his shirt, blood dripping down his curled hand.

She pushed forward to her feet, stumbling across the room, her hand gently closing over his wrist.

“I’m not nearly finished with him.” Eric said harshly, his bright blue eyes smoldering with fury and hurt, his hair tangled, his chest heaving. Realizing he was ready to shake off her arm, Tris stepped in front of him, blocking his source of rage. 

“No more, you’re finished. Their blood isn’t worth staining your hands.” Tris said softly cupping his face, focusing his attention on her as she ignored the blood trickling over fingers from the cut on his lip. “Promise me.”

Expelling a harsh breath, he closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, his chest expanding. He shook in anger, his knuckles torn and bruised, his heart pounding. She looked desolate, devastated and sensing her frailty he pulled her into his arms, reassuring himself that Peter not succeeded, shivers racking her body as he slowly nodded his agreement.

“Eric, the words.”

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I promise, okay? I fucking promise.”

She stared into his eyes for a moment longer, searching for the truth, before she nodded and slowly released him.

“You touch her again and I will fucking kill you. You can’t hide from me.” Eric warned, leaning down, holding Peter’s chin, bringing his swelling face level, the words low and forceful, too quiet for Tris to hear. “Don’t look at her, think of her, walk the other way when you see her coming. She’s mine, do you understand that?”

\---

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - ERIC’S APARTMENT  
MID-OCTOBER  
TUESDAY - 10:58 P.M.

Tris stared blankly ahead, listening as the rain gently pattered against the window, she drew her knees up attempting to warm her petite frame clothed in the comfort of Eric’s large black sweater, the neckline slipping off her shoulder.

She drew in a deep shuddering breath, coolness surrounding her. She had showered under the scalding water, she lathered the wash cloth, harshly scrubbing it over her skin until the tender flesh turned a dark pink as if the soap would cleanse her of the feeling of their hands, their lips. She felt dirty. 

Their taunting words grew louder, their desire to break her, to make her cry echoed through her mind, swirling until she collapsed, covering her ears, screaming loudly, harshly, her body taunt in unseen pain.

She didn’t hear the door open, the wood almost breaking as it forcefully cracked against the wall and he let out a low curse as steam billowed from the room.

She said nothing as he reached down, turning off the water tap with his hand, pulling her up with his left arm.

He was wet, she realized dimly as he wrapped the large towel around her shaking form, the water’s dampness spreading through the thin material of his shirt in front, his searing surrounding her.

She buried her damp face in his neck, and he felt the wetness of her tears burning his skin, searing through the ice to agony beneath, finally breaking her. He was keenly aware of her thundering heart, her harsh, rapid breathing.

Eric’s lips brushed over her forehead again and again, tiny caresses whispering over her. Deep inside her the numbness, the faint echo of anger and grief trembled before fading, completely surrounding her with his presence, his arms holding her with a gentleness that staggered her senses. 

“I’ve got you, Tris.”

He always had.

Was Peter right? Had she served this?

“Tris?” she felt Eric move behind her, sitting, his hands resting on either sides of her thighs. She drew in a sharp breath, her eyes narrowed with guilt at the sight of the dried blood on his torn knuckles. “Are you alright?” 

She didn’t answer as Eric’s warm skin pressed against her, the strength, the contoured muscles of his chest protecting her weakness, his head dropping to her shoulder. His hair tickled her skin, heating at the brush of his lips. His arms surrounded her, coiling her into his embrace, their fingers brushed softly before clasping hers, intertwining.

“My father use to hit my mother. He would beat her until she couldn’t walk.” His confession broke the silence that had formed between. “He knocked her around really good, broke bones, made her bleed. When I was bigger I defended her but he wasn’t interested in me. He only like knocking women around.”

“What happened to her?” 

“I begged her to go before the Council, reveal what he was and what he had done and have him punished accordingly. She refused because she loved him. She could do better, make him not so angry. I left at the Choosing Ceremony and never looked back.” She could hear the confusion and anger that coated his words.

“Is that why you helped me?” she whispered her voice harsh, jagged with her barely contained emotions. “Because it reminded you of what happened with your mother?”

“Are you fucking serious?” He asked gruffly, his body stiffening as he sat back and she turned to face him. “They were about to rape you. You think I would just turn away and walk away that?”

“I thought you were done with me. That our game was finished.”

Eric said nothing in turn.

She knew Eric did not show his emotion, but for all his self-control his eyes always told the truth. When she stared into the blue depths she knew she would find him there. He couldn’t hide the fact that he had a soul.

“What are you going to tell Max?” Tris asked her voice small, sounding so unlike herself as she hugged her knees close to her chest.

“The truth,” Eric paused, his fingers tangled in her damp locks as her body stiffened at his answer.

“You can’t,” she pleaded, twisting towards his. 

“You were almost raped and murdered tonight by boys who are afraid a girl from Abnegation while your friend stood there and cried. How can I not tell him?” he said, his voice hardening with the memory.

“But I wasn’t. I stopped it. You stopped it. We stopped it.”

It hasn’t been her choice to have Peter, Drew and Al to touch her, but this was her decision. To stand up and fight for everything she was and for what she had almost lost and not to slink off in the corner. 

“Christ, Tris,” Eric stood, shoving his fingers through his hair, tilting his head back in order to control his anger. “What if I wasn’t there? What if you wouldn’t have been able to get you away from Drew like you did Peter. I would have been pulling your fucking corpse from the Chasm in the morning.”

“Which is why he never needs to know. What can it help if he does?”

“Do think you really think you can hide this from him? The bruises on your face and wrists, the bite marks on your neck. Are you really that proficient with makeup yet? You shouldn’t have fucking taunted them. You should have left well enough alone.”

“You think I asked for this?” Tris hissed, surging to her feet, raising her face towards the Dauntless leader. “That I deserve to be punished? I went to see my brother today. I understand that I broke the rules so I deserve to be punished? To almost be raped?” She screamed slightly hysterical, maddened pain, lashing out, her fists pounding on his chest and shoulders. “By scared little boys who can’t stand coming in second.”

It took all of Eric’s strength to hold her until her fury was finally spent and she collapsed her, her slim body raking with suppressed sobs. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask my friend to betray me.” She whispered brokenly. “I didn’t ask for this but I damn well indeed to finish.”

“And how do you propose doing that?”

“By beating them, edge them out in the rankings, know that I was the one who made them Factionless.

Eric sighed, her words tore at him, his eyes stung with remorse at his uncalled for attack. “I’m sorry. I had no right to say that. I’m a jackass.”

Tris heard the raw ache in his voice as he softly murmured reassurance in her ear, his hands moving up and down her back in a gesture of helpless comfort, spreading warmth wherever he touched.

“I’m sorry you’re a jackass too, but you are still not telling Max.”

He let of a soft laugh, tilting her head, touching her cheek, tracing the elegant curve as she placed a soft kiss on his palm. Eric’s hand faltered for a moment before he gripped her chin, tilting her head back staring into her dark eyes pleading for him to hold her, to heal her. 

Eric was still stunned that someone had been stupid enough to touch what was claimed as his. No other man had any right to touch her until they gained his approval and not one had succeeded in that area. Even though she was only twenty-one he knew that no one deserved her. She was his.

Tris was silent as she became trapped in the blue animalistic possession she found forming in his gaze as he studied her wordlessly. 

He lowered his mouth, his lips clinging to hers as he slanted his head to the side, his tongue gliding over hers. At the first touch she stiffened, beginning to push against his shoulders, the evening events quickly flashing through her mind. Eric drew back, resting his forehead against hers, pulling her body closer.

“I won’t hurt you. Trust me,” he whispered, running stroked his tongue across her lower lip, hot and damp. “Let me taste you, Tris. Just once more.”

His breathing grew ragged as she relaxed, tentatively twining her arms around his neck, her fingers weaving through and gripping the soft hair on the nape of his neck.

She felt the strength of his hands as his fingers spread through her hair, slowly exerting a gentle pressure and Tris parted her lips slightly, inviting him, his tongue gliding over her.

The fierce pressure, the rasp of his tongue and teeth, sent pure fire racing through her. This is what she had wanted. She had wanted Eric to be the first to touch her, taste her in any manner. That had been taken from her, but this moment, before his conscience reminded him he was never suppose to touch her, was hers.

A low growl sounded from Eric’s throat as he deeply plunged, and her tongue curled around his in a blatant manner, then she sucked daintily, holding his within her own mouth. He took her bottom lip between his teeth, sucking lightly on it before releasing her.

Eric nestled his head on her shoulder as Tris felt herself tremble slightly. Their rapid heartbeats slowed and their labored breathing calmed as Tris pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. She said nothing when his arm slid under her knees, tucking her to his chest as he carried down the hallway to his bedroom.

Dawn was coming and somehow she knew that things would never be the same again.


	8. JUDGMENT

NOTE: Please note we have come full circle at Chapter One and there are parts of that Chapter in this new Chapter. Thank you so much for the reviews!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent, the book or characters. Also, the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie.

JUDGMENT: noun / the ability to make considered decisions or come to sensible conclusions.

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - ERIC’S APARTMENT  
NOVEMBER  
WEDNESDAY- 7:00 A.M.

Tris’s breath tickled his chest as she slept, her leg curled around his, tightening unconsciously as she scooted closer to his warmth. The sheets were draped across her carelessly and her lips pressed against his skin as she nuzzled his chest, He inhaled deeply, his senses attuned to her every movement and his thoughts finally settled. 

He had not slept. Instead he had laid awake, his eyes burning into the darkness, aimlessly staring at the ceiling, his senses raw and exposed. 

It had been no different than the nights before since he had unsuccessfully attempted to drive her from his life.

His dreams were haunted by her, of dampened slick golden flesh, moving frantically against and beneath one another. Molten fire reflecting in her russet depths, clawing, moaning his name, pressing to be closer.

To be one, to be complete.

But they were not together. His actions had made certain of that.

Still beneath the pillow, their hands were entwined and his thumb made slow circles on her knuckles. Unwanted contentment flowed through him and he knew that he would not be able to think straight with her on top of him, with her anywhere near him. 

The possibility of what could have been teased him, taunted him with the knowledge of all that he had refused to believe. What he hungered to believe in with an intensity that left him shaken. 

He needed her.

He had come so close to losing her. So damned close. He didn’t know if he could lose her again. Feel the cold black wrapping around him, freezing him all the way to his soul.

So he had watched her, tracing the curve of her face with his fingertips, knowing that when the morning came, the barrier of ice would be firmly back in place and questions would have to be answered.

Answers that he was still unwilling to give.

Tris stirred, lifting her disheveled head slightly, her eyes luminous and heavy with sleep. Eric traced a finger across her lips, smiling gently as she pressed her lips to his palm.

And he burned.

But he knew the moment she remembered what had happened the night before, remembered his words and actions for the past weeks as her body stiffened, withdrawing from him, her features smoothing into a blank, resolute expression.

Tris winced as she forced her sore body to move, pushing herself from the warm bed that she wanted nothing more than to stay in, searching for her black leggings on the floor.

She needed to get out of Eric’s apartment. She needed to process all that had changed the night before from her brother turning his back to her to her friend attempting to kill her.

To Eric saving her and going against everything she believed him to be. Again.

“You look good in my clothes,” he remarked a faintly possessive smirk settling across his features at the sight of her in his worn shirt which stopped at her knees revealing long, shapely legs that were bare as she pulled the leggings up, the neckline falling off a shoulder slightly to offer a tantalizing view of smooth flesh. “Probably better off.”

“You always have had a way with such sweet words,” Tris remarked, humor fading as she quickly walked towards his front door as he followed her, pulling a shirt over his head. “I have to go.”

“Tris.”

“No Eric, last night changes nothing.” 

“Who are you trying so hard to convince? Yourself?” He taunted.

“Look, you helped me and I appreciate it, but it changes nothing.” She turned towards him, her hand slashing down to emphasize her point. 

“Would you stop for a minute and listen to me.” Forcefully he grabbed her arms, his hands tightly gripping her upper arms. “Just stop and listen to what I have to say.” 

“Why should I? I mean nothing to you, remember? Not one damn thing,” she told him quietly, her voice almost soundless. “You hurt me when you didn’t have too.”

“I meant too.”

Her body stilled and she raised her confused eyes to his. They were impossibly blue, unblinking and intense, directly staring into hers, his body brushing against her and Tris shivered at the contact. Her eyes were searching past the darkness shadows and for moment she questioned if he knew.

If he knew the secret she kept so desperately kept.

“It’s the only way I know you don’t die.”

She raised her hand to his chest, resting over the muscular surface, spreading against the place where his heart beat. Strong and wild.

“Whether I live or die is not your concern, Eric. Not anymore. It’s not your choice.”

She felt the strength of his hands as he raised them to frame her face, his fingers tracing over the delicate yet stubborn line of her smooth jaw, his thumbs skimmed against the fluttering pulse, tilting her head back, his mouth set so temptingly close that she could all but taste him.

“Do you want to try that again?” His own needs thickened his voice until there was a darkened edge to it. She watched him through thick black lashes, his mouth was a breath from hers, and her sigh already filling him.

“What do you want from me?”

“Everything. I want everything.”

Eric’s lips skimmed, nipped and nuzzled as he urged her head back, deepening the tangle of tongues and tastes, their mingle of breaths growing unsteady and shallow. She gripped his wrists, framing her face for balance then for the sensation of that hard, dangerous strength. His hands slid over her and into her hair, tangling his finger through and twisting the silken strands.

“I guess it was the better that I was sent for you rather than Max himself coming to find you.”

Four’s voice caused Tris to jerk away, gasping as she felt the ripple of Eric’s body as he stepped forward. He was taut, tense, the long sleek muscles contracting involuntary motion as he pulled her behind him.

“Four, this is not what it looks like.” She stated.

“Yes, it is.” Eric interjected, wincing slightly when she sharply pinched his side.

“Ignore him.”

Four walked towards them, his lips curving slightly at her tone until his gaze roved over her face, taking in the bruises and finger-shaped marks darkening her neck.

“Preciously.” Eric stated viciously as Four’s expression hardened and he let out a series scathing curses, red burning across his cheekbones.

“Well that explains it,” Four murmured to himself before ordering softly. “Tris, go find Christina. Let her help you. I need to speak to Eric.”

Tris opened her mouth to argue, but something in Four’s expression caused her to nod, casting him a small smile, her hand drifting across Eric’s arm before walking towards the initiate sleeping area.

“Something on your mind, Tobias?” Eric asked, his tone challenging as he folded his arms. “Or are you just looking for a morning fight?”

“Max ordered me to find you. You’re wanted for questioning.”

“Questioning for what?” Eric arched a pierced brow, uneasy anger forming in the pit of his stomach.

“Your apparent attack against Peter and Drew.” Four explained. “They’ve requested to approach the Council regarding your actions.”

“My fucking actions?” Eric exploded, disbelief coloring his tone, his chest heaving in his rage. “They were going rape her and through her body in the goddamn Chasm. Call it some unfortunate accident.”

“Tell Max the truth. Its that simple.” Four stated.

“I promised her I wouldn’t.” Eric tilted his head back, drawing in a deep breathe, accepting what he could not stop.

 

“Then break it.”

“I can’t.” And he knew his judgment had finally come.

"You're a fool. You’ll lose her." Eric's head snapped back at the sound of Four's voice. "I would have given ten years of my life if she would have looked at me once they way she looks at you."

“This is the only way she’ll be safe.”

Four’s eyes narrowed as they studied Eric’s face. “You finally you realize you love her?”

“That was never even a question.”

\---  
DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - DORM  
NOVEMBER  
WEDNESDAY- 9:03 A.M.

“Oh my god, Tris.” Christina’s dark eyes widened in shock, her breath catching on the words. “What happened to you?”

“Peter happened.” Tris said, wincing as she lowered her sore body to Christina’s bed. “And Drew and Al.”

“Al? There’s no way he would hurt you.” Christina denied. “I’m pretty sure he believes he is in love with you.”

“Well his love almost allowed Peter to rape me and throw me in the Chasm.” Tris reached out, her hand lightly trembling as grasped Christina’s. “He’s a coward. And now you need to help hide what they did please.”

Christina silently applied the makeup to Tris’s features, her hand gentle as she blended the concealer across the worst of her bruises.

“It looks better,” Christina admitted before falling silent as Four entered the room, his face conflicted.

“What’s going on, Four?”

“He didn’t go back on his word to you.” Four sounded surprised as he admitted it to her. “He didn’t tell Max what actually happened. He didn’t deny inflicting the damage to Peter, Drew and Al.”

“So what does that mean then?”

“Eric and Peter will go before the Council. If Eric is found guilty they’ll strip his leadership rank and he’ll be deemed Factionless.”

\---

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - TRAINING ROOM  
NOVEMBER  
WEDNESDAY - 11:45 P.M.

She had searched for him for hours. Waiting outside of his apartment, in the Pit and finally she had spotted stalking across the Dauntless compound and into the training room.

She had to talk to him.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t give up everything that he was for her. He couldn’t. Even if he had broken her heart.

He felt her touch on the base of his back, her fingers cool against his  
hot, sweaty skin that caused him to stiffen. He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath as her scent invaded his senses, his knuckles torn and bruised dangled uselessly at his sides. He bowed his head, staring at the floor as he attempted to contain the emotion that lapped at his will.

"Eric," Tris' voice was barely above a whisper as he turned, laughing harshly, his chest heaving, his gaze searing her.

She let out an unsteady breath as he stalked towards her, her gaze focusing on the pulse that throbbed visibly in the hollow of his throat, the bronze curve of his chiseled jaw.

As her back met the wall, his muscles coiled and slide beneath tanned skin when his palms flattened on the surface, imprisoning her between the cage of his arms and his body.

Eric watched as she bit her full lower lip, drawing it between her teeth. Her fingertips trailed across the curve of his ribcage before resting on his lower stomach, the solid muscle rippling at the contact.

She knew it was wrong as she smoothed her hands down his cheeks, loving the rasp of his stubble against her palms as she stared into his eyes, the blue swirling together with silver in an unusual mixture of lightened darkness.

Her seduction whispered around him, teasing his control. Eric knew he couldn't resist her. Her skin was already damp, hot, he could feel her tremble, breathless when she murmured his name, the sound shaky through the blood pounding in his temples.

She was silently daring him to move.

Her Divergence be damned.

He pushed one hand into her glossy hair, pulling her head towards his, allowing her softness to rest against his strength.

His mouth was hot and wild, hard and deep, their mingle of breath growing unsteady and shallow. She shuddered, meeting the intrusion of his tongue with her own fiercely, moaning in satisfaction at his taste. Her fingers curved around his neck, plunging into his hair, holding his head, twisting hers to the side, arousing her, satisfying her, consuming her.

His tongue damp, tracing hers in a wicked pattern she had long forgotten.

She could almost feel the fury and frustration, and something more, carefully buried needs in his taste as his head slanted over her and with an audible sound their lips parted.

In that moment, Eric knew exactly what he wanted. What he needed.

With feeling coursing through him, his breathing grew heavier and his grip on her waist became almost painful in his intensity. Eric did not move or speak, but simply stared into her eyes and masked nothing.

Tris' breath caught in her throat and she could not look away. There was something different in his eyes.

From a mixture of lust, passion, sorrow, betrayal, confusion, every emotion she could think that was ever hidden, tiny prisms of light seemed to catch, radiating a hungry blue, a darkened silver, exploding in its raw form.

She recognized the look she had seen long ago, this was the man she knew and it killed her.

This was the man that could be the best, be his own man and not need Jeanine Matthews and the endless power she promised.

This was the man she loved.

Eric pressed closer, wanting her to feel him, his body, hiding nothing of himself.

Slowly she slipped from his grasp, leaving coldness in the place of warm, Eric exhaled, the fury leaving his body as he searched her eyes, past the elusive, shadowed depths.

"It's about fucking time. Welcome back”

\--- 

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - THE PIT  
NOVEMBER  
THURSDAY, 2:25 P.M.

Peter Hayes stood near the entrance of the Pit, his chest over-inflated with self-importance, his arms spread out as he regaled his tale of how he believed he had finally bested the young Dauntless leader to his fellow initiates.

"He dared to threaten me. Me! Told me I would end up Factionless if I didn't learn my place. Dumb fucker, I could easily destroy him." Peter's voice rose, shrill with righteousness. "I will have job by the end of the Choosing Ceremony."

He paused dramatically, rubbing his hands together, his pale face shining with sweat, but before he could continue his rant a hum of "tik tok tik tok" echoed throughout the air, cutting through his words.

Confused Peter turned, stepped to the side of Drew and Molly, searching for the source until his gaze set on the one girl who had caused him nothing but grief since the start of Initiation.

She sat, perched on top of a large boulder, one leg clad in a black and grey skull designed legging, dangled downwards as her black combat swung aimlessly. Still humming, she flipped to the next page of the report she was reading.

The Abnegation princess.

"Something amuse you, Tris?" Peter snapped, his tone thick with distaste, his dark brows drawing down low over his eyes.

The first jumper initiate set aside her paper, sliding down the rock, a cynically amused smile curled the corner of her full lips, a predatory gleam to her darkly shadowed eyes as she sauntered towards Peter.

"Run run as fast as you can. When Eric catches you, you're a dead man." Her chant was soft with warning as she circled him, aimlessly twirling the end of a pigtail around her finger.

"Clever, very cute." Peter's beady green eyes narrowed. "Eric does not scare me. He can't touch me."

"Then you're foolish, stupidly foolish." Tris reasoned, shrugging her shoulders. "Because when Eric gets his hands on you, God himself will not be able to save you."

Peter swallowed harshly, barely resisting the urge to look over his shoulder at the truth of her words.

"Eric use to laugh about you, gloat about how he planned to tarnish and destroy the Abnegation princess." he said coldly as she paused unflinching at his statement. "You made him weak."

"You see that's where you're wrong. I made him the best." Tris stepped back, casting him a smirk over her shoulder as she walked towards training room. "Good luck to you, Peter."

\---

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND  
NOVEMBER  
THURSDAY - 5:55 P.M.

Tris strode into Max’s office, ignoring his sputtering assistant, not flinching as he yelled after her. She was unsurprised to see Jeanine Matthews seated across from Max, her eyebrows raised in annoyance at the interruption.

“Eric didn’t attack Peter, Drew and Al for no cause. You of all people should know that.”

“Ms. Prior, it’s not about what I believe to be true. There are rules…”

“Rules, please.” Tris scoffed, raising the damp rag she had clenched her hand, wiping the wet surface across her neck and face, the damage from Peter’s hands and mouth becoming stark and evident.

She smiled with grim satisfaction at the sound of Max’s curse and Jeanine’s sharply inhaled breathe. “Eric’s innocent. He was protecting me.”


	9. TRUTH

This did not turn out as I had planned but oh well, I’m going with it! Thank you for reading!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent, the book or characters. Also the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie.

TRUTH: noun / the body of real things, events, and facts 

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - THE PIT  
NOVEMBER  
TUESDAY - 5:OO P.M.

Shrewd eyes slid over her in speculation, judging her as she effortlessly weaved through the crowded Pit area. She had heard the whispers, the murmured theories and statements that she was the reason for the young Dauntless leader’s downfall and trial before the Factions Council. That she had worked together with Peter to trick, deceive and dethrone Eric in an attempt to establish a new generation of Dauntless leadership.

That she was a liar and nothing more.

She forgotten how those taunts and looks could burn.

Although she had expected nothing less even with Four’s warning that the entire Faction system was abuzz with the scandal, outrageous tales generated, unaware of the truth to the situation surrounding the accused Dauntless leader and his vicious assault on his innocent initiates.

Innocent initiates, my ass, Tris thought as she rolled her eyes, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her fitted black jacket.

It had been nearly a week since she had last seen Eric. She had spent that time in the protective custody of the Dauntless leadership. Kept separate from her initiate class, no contact allowed with any of the accused parties, friends or would be lovers.

Eric was not handling it well, Four had informed, his expression one of vast amusement. He had broken more than one nose, arm and door in the his anger of the past week. The Med Bay had begun to keep an extra bed available for the latest and unfortunate victim of Eric’s uncontrollable wrath.

The man no one could touch, Four had reasoned, staring at her as if he knew a secret she had not been privy too. Except one slip of a girl from Abnegation.

She could not outrun the shadows, she could not sleep, but she wouldn’t allow for her fear of Peter and what he was capable of to rule her life.

The truth was all she wanted to was to be left alone, but she knew that was not possible.

She knew what Max had wanted, what he had asked. All she had to do was forget. Forget that Peter and Drew had touched her. Attempted to violate her. Made her bleed.

That she should trust in the system for justice and for the truth to come out.

The Faction system could be damned for all she cared.

The Council of Factions had gathered in the Pit, turning the very center of Dauntless into judge and executioner.

Tris stepped forward, breaking through the ring of arguing Council members and she simply lifted her chin, a sweet smile stretching across her lips at the sight of Eric. 

He was sprawled lazily in his chair, the fitted black jacket he wore covered his upper torso pulled outlining his flat, muscular stomach. His very stance almost disinterested at the arguments surrounding him.

“Beatrice.” She heard her father’s shocked statement echoing through the rapidly quieting Pit area. “You are responsible for this?”

Andrew Prior looked like stranger to her. Disgust was written across every feature of his face as he took in the fitted clothing, the tattoos, the bruises. It was as if her life as an obedient Abnegation daughter had never existed. Meanwhile, she cast a longing glance towards her mother who beamed at her with pride as well as concern.

But Tris knew the exact moment Eric saw her as his pupils widen in disbelief, and then the chill in his blue eyes was swallowed by pure fire as he glared across the table at her.

“What the fuck is she doing here? An initiate does not belong these proceedings This matter does not concern her.” Eric demanded, his voice was cold and lethal as a steel blade, his chair tipping backwards as he stood, crashing to the ground. “She has no place here.”

Even with his future in the balance, he was still protecting.

Tris wanted nothing more to push Eric back into his chair, straddle his lap, sink into warmth and relish in his taste, the feel of his tongue and hands against her body.

“In the Council’s opinion she does. Sit down, Mr. Coulter.” Jack Kang ordered sharply.

Eric snarled viciously at the Candor leader words before he sat down, rubbing a hand over his face as he searched for control before leaning back, his planted booted feet wide apart on the floor. His body was taut, tense, the long sleek muscle contracting involuntarily. His fingers laced together atop his stomach and watched Jack through heavily lashed eyelids when he began to speak.

“Tris Prior has asked to speak to the Council on behalf of Eric Coulter’s defense. She insists that what she has to say is relevant.”

“No!” She heard Peter shriek the word viciously. “She is his lover - she’ll do or say anything to make sure that he is found innocent!”

“Curious, then that she said that you would object with those almost exact statements.” Johanna, the Amity representative, stated. “Which is why she has asked for the serum made by Candor for her questioning.”

Tris risked the urge to giggle and clap her hands gleefully at the sight of Peter and Drew’s rapidly paling faces.

They knew their judgment was to come.

Four stepped forward, the syringe placed in his hand by Jack Kang. 

The Candor’s very own truth serum.

She knew what could be brought forth during its effects. She knew it could be her very own damnation.

But she was the cause of this. 

“Be brave, Tris.” Four whispered.

Blood rushed to her head as the serum began to work its way through her system until the pressure behind her eyes was almost unbearable, even as her vision blurred and she gasped harshly.

Four had warned her the more that she fought the truth serum, the worse its effect and pain would be.

“Please state your name.” Jeanine Matthews order, straightening her impeccable blue suit.

“My name is Tris Prior.”

“Lies!” She heard Peter’s accusation, his voice borderline hysterical at the sight of her under the control of the truth serum. “The serum is not working! Her name is not Tris.”

“I was born as Beatrice Prior, only daughter to Andrew and Natalie Prior of the Abnegation Faction. Who I was before I came to Dauntless no longer exists. My name is Tris.”

“Truth.” Jack Kang murmured respectfully.

“Your test results said you belonged to the Abnegation Faction. Why did you not stay to your chosen Faction?” Marcus Eaton asked and Tris shivered at his voice, disgust for her former Faction leader creeping through her. “Stay with the family who loved and protected you.”

“I did not belong there.”

“And you believe belong in Dauntless?”

“Yes, I do.” Tris arched an eyebrow, her voice certain in her answer.

“Then tell me, Ms. Prior how is it possible from you to go the lowest to the highest ranking during the initiation stages.” Jeanine asked, walking in front of her. “Never before has initiate completed such a feat in any Faction.”

“Strength and agility can be learned with enough practice and time.” Tris said. “The fault was there own. They made the mistake in believing I’m weak. I’m not.”

“And your fellow initiates believe you are?”

“Of course. They believe me to be a meek, simple-minded girl from Abnegation. They’re wrong.”

“Of course they are.” Johanne said. “During the entire Dauntless initiation it has been reported that you have had repeated confrontations and issues with Peter Hayes.”

“Yes.”

“And you believe that Peter planned and lead an attack against you.”

“I don’t have to believe it. I know.” Tris snapped, pointing toward Peter, smirking as he snarled at her. “He can’t stand the fact that he is in second place. That a girl, let alone one from Abnegation, is better than him. Smarter, faster. The best.”

“Regardless of your history with Peter Hayes, the question remains whether you lie to protect Eric Coulter.” Her father asked, his gaze searching her eyes, looking for the little girl she had once been.

“Yes.” The words painfully slipped out. “Yes, I would.”

“She admits she would lie! She is lying about this.”

“Sit down, Mr. Hayes.” Max’s voice was sharp.

“Are you currently is a sexual relationship with Eric Coulter?”

“Do I look deliciously satisfied? The answer is sadly no.” Eric smirked at her answers, laughing slightly as the sound of the catcalls echoing throughout the Pit. “Don’t give me that look Jeanine. Have you seen the way he fills out those pants so snuggly. You know it has to be good. Yum.”

Tris slapped a hand over her mouth, mortification burning her cheeks as laughter rang out around her. 

“Did Eric attack Peter, Drew and Al without provocation?” Max snapped, raising his voice loudly.

“Of course not. He would never waste such effort on them. It benefits him not.”

Tris’s fingers clenched white against her folded arms and she leaned forward, swallowing harshly, her body struggling against the truth serum as her mind whirling. She was suddenly tired of being painted as the villain.

They deserved their explanation.

“They attacked me from behind, hurt me, made me bleed,” Tris said softly, her spine straightening. Her fingers lightly trembled as she reached for the zipper of her black fitted jacket. She searched Peter’s cold eyes before dropping the material to the ground, ignoring the gasps she heard from behind of what black her tank top revealed, the sight of the damage, more than a week old, that marred the smooth flesh. “Peter held me against the wall, Drew at my feet, spreading me out like a human sacrifice, touching me, forcing himself, wanting to fuck me.”

Tris paused for a moment, ignoring the sound of her mother’s soft sob.

“You can’t image it, can you? You’ve always been protected, safe.” Tris said, turning to face her peers, a tired smile pulling at the corner of her lips. “How could you understand someone beating you in an enraged frenzy, attempting to rape you and kill you.”

She put everything she felt into the explanation, the last of her regret, her shame, as if was an ugly second skin she desired to leave behind and emerged as poised sophistication.

“Was Eric Coulter a part of this attack?”

“Eric saved me. I managed to hurt Peter. The bandage on his neck is a gift from me. But Drew, he was still strong, he was still ready to complete Peter’s order.” Tris snapped. “Eric helped me.”

“Why did you tell him not to let Max know?” Andrew Prior asked hoarsely.

“Because it would have proven that they had beat me, broken me.”

“Have they?”

“No. They haven’t. You need to understand this is about me. It’s about taking a stand, not being pressured or maneuvered as everyone has always done with me. I should never have asked Eric to not report what had happened. That was my mistake. I will be the top rank of my initiate class. That I guaranty you. Drew and Al will be factionless. And Peter,” Tris could not stop the smirk from spreading across her features. “He will forever be known as the coward that came in second to a girl from Abnegation. Outloud and in living color, everyone now knows what his true fear is.”

“Mr. Coulter, do you have anything you need to add.”

“Tris Prior did not need my help. She needs no man to save her.” Eric stated, his voice rough, caressing her with his words.

Being witness to her standing against her fear made him want to crush his mouth fiercely to her own. To feel the pure, primitive male triumph roar through him at the evidence of her own arousal.

“But when initiation is over, I damn well intend to make her complete and utter seduction my priority.”

Tris could not help but laugh at the cheers and whistles that erupted from the Dauntless members.

“Thank you, Ms. Prior. That is all.” Marcus Eaton dismissed her.

“Ms. Prior, one more question.” Jeanine’s voice rang out. “Are you in love with Eric Coulter.”

Tris gasped slightly as Eric looked at her, his expression guarded, but his eyes burned her.

Their gazes held, and for her, just for a moment, they were completely alone.

“Yes,” her voice was soft but true. “I do.”


	10. SATISFACTION

Wow...this is so so SO long overdue. I actually wrote this before Christmas but when uploading the chapter my computer crashed and wiped out everything I have ever written. It took a bit to get back to a good space. Oh and why he kissed Lauren will be reveled next chapter! For all those who have waited, for the comments and follows - thank you! I hope you enjoy! 

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Divergent, the book or characters. Also the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie.

SATISFACTION: noun / fulfillment of one's wishes, expectations, or needs, or the pleasure derived from this.

DAUNTLESS COMPOUND - THE PIT  
NOVEMBER  
MONDAY - 7:50 P.M.

She watched with savage delight as the final scores flashed across the board above her head. Fierce satisfaction leapt through her, adulation surging hotly into her veins as the top-ranking names were revealed much to the roaring approval of the Dauntless Faction, the first intermingling of unity in the Pit between both the old and newly initiated members.

She had done it.

She had survived.

She had survived Peter's attacks, she survived Jeanine Matthews doubting implications, she had survived the stigma of her Abnegation upbringing.

She had survived herself.

As she had predicted Al, Drew and Mollie had been edged out of the rankings. They would be Factionless and it was no less than what they deserved. And Peter had been demoted in points, barely creeping past his friends and had managed to become Dauntless with the lowest ranking in their class.

They had not broken her. They had not stopped her.

The first jumper from Abnegation who many had deemed pathetically weak was now the first in her class, the top ranked initiate.

Tris Prior was Dauntless.

She was home.

Tris tilted her head back, spreading her arms wide, laughter erupting as she soaked in the the noise and movement surrounding her. The past two weeks had been shrouded in uncertainty, secret meetings between the Dauntless, and Tris knew that change was coming.

She had remained separated from Eric with the explanation that he could influence with the outcome of her tests. The charges against Eric had been dropped but Four had taken over his duties in the overseeing in the current initiate class. Christina had sighed in jealousy when Four would pull Tris aside, delivering instructions from Eric regarding the final test. He had warned her to react as if she was Dauntless, no matter how much she knew the simulations were not real, than she would pass.

And she had and she had won.

Lazily, Tris opened her eyes, searching through the celebrating masses surrounding the Pit's area for the Dauntless leader she had missed.

For the one she yearned to see.

"If you're looking for trouble," Christina advised, her tone gently amused, sliding a supporting arms around Tris's shoulders as she nodded towards the stairs. "I do believe he has found you."

He stood at the top of the stairwell, on the ledge near the scoreboard, he ignoring the noise around him as his attention focused on her.

Her breath caught, a dull red straining her delicately, sculpted cheekbones. The impact of his physical presence took her breath away, her heart pounding so hard, she wondered how he was not able to hear it.

His hands were resting loosely on the bar above his head, his tanned skin pulled taut against his sharp cheekbones. His hair was slicked back from his forehead, the bronzed curve of his chiseled jaw darkened with stubble.

The silmy tailored black jacket covered his upper torso snuggly, straining against his broad shoulders, outlining his flat, muscular stomach. Eric's striking blue eyes locking on hers, momentarily knocking any form of coherent thought from her mind, causing her block to rush hotly through her veins.

He barely bit back a curse. There was a certain radiance to her dusky skin that caused her to glow, the tapered chin pointed towards him in always a stubborn defiance. He had felt half-dead in the weeks he had been separated from her.

But he was still very much alive and he had never been more aware of it before.

The very reason for it stared back at him, following him around all day, taking over his thoughts, sauntering around and teasing him.

Fuck there was no way around it.

He loved her.

A war of wills waged between them as they challenged, teased the other, each all too aware that the next movement would decide which path was chosen. They could back up and walk away, an unspoken agreement that the other would never mention it again or they could choose their other option. Give into the impulse and risk the consequences.

Risk their hearts, their souls.

Blood rushed through her ears, a fluttering sensation in her stomach growing. She watched him through thick, black lashes as his intense gaze darkened, becoming heavy lidded with intent.

His tongue slide over his bottom lip, pulling it back between his teeth.

Tris felt herself dampen, her core clenching at the sight.

"Fuck girl," Christina sighed, her tone wistful as Eric stepped back, turning down the stairs. "I don't know if I should warn your ass to run or offer you my congratulations."

Tris barely had time to think much less respond as he headed straight towards her in a purposeful stride.

He wrapped his arms around her, his hands were on her body as they slicked down the curve of her breasts to her sides caressing the swell of her hips, hauling her to his chest, allowing her softness to rest against his strength, continuing his forward momentum until her back pressed cement pillar behind her.

He cupped her buttocks, grasping, filling his hands, her legs twined around his waist, heels hooking together, the raw sensuality of the gesture causing her to gasp and arch into him. Eric slanted his head to the side, stroking his tongue across her lower lips, and she parted her lips slightly, silently inviting him to taste her, give himself what he had been denied.

The fierce pressure, the rasp of his tongue and teeth, sent pure fire racing through her, turning it into something darker and deeper. Her arms slid upwards over his shoulders to wrap his neck and her teeth parted to allow him deeper access, his rough skin brushing over her, his hips hard and demanding against hers.

Instantly desperate, greedily, he repeatedly sank his tongue into her lush, damp heat, sharp hunger, sensation pierced through him, causing him to harshly groan, a low feral sound. He took her bottom lip between his teeth, sucking lightly before deeply plunging and her tongue curled dainty around his, licking, moaning in satisfaction at his taste.

Tris's mouth went wild beneath this, her surrender complete, but her seduction whispered around him, teasing his control as he dragged her harder against him and plundered.

They failed to notice that no one had stopped their display.

This wasn't a matter of temptation, of anger, but of need. No other woman had ever made him ache like this. Not just from watching her.

His lips connected to her neck, inhaling, his teeth nipping, sucking hard as her hips bucking against him, pressing his hardened length in desperate need. She moaned, throaty, husky, pure woman.

A smirk curled his lips, letting her skin slid from his mouth, the words against her smooth skin.

"You feel so good, Tris, so fucking good."

Damn.

She liked that.

Her body trembled, pressing urgently against him, the heat of his palms burned through the thin fabric covering her thighs. Tris was breathless when she murmured his name, but he heard the soft shaky sound through the blood pounding in his temples.

"Stop." Tris finally managed to whisper hoarsely, forcing her mouth away from his, stiffening in his arms. "We can't."

Eric watched her through narrowed eyes, the intense quality of his gaze burning into her. Tris drew in a ragged breath, her lips red and swollen, unlocking her legs from around his waist, sliding down his body.

She raised her hand to his chest, resting over the muscular surface, spreading against the place where his heart beat. Strong and wild.

"Not here."

Tris went where he guided, through the Dauntless members, twisting and turning until the noise and laughter had all but faded. He tightly held her hand in his, his eyes flashing, his body taut as he pushed open the door to his apartment.

In the silence of his apartment, she tensed between the anticipation and dread of what remained unsaid between them as she waited for the contact that would come, the leased vitality that threatened to overwhelm her senses, the glittering force focusing on her.

His hand touched her waist, curving around the slender indent.

Mutely she kept her eyes focus of the shoulder seam of his jacket, trying not to think of the strength of his hand, the muscles of his thighs, making his desire obvious.

In his presence like this, she was torn. Between wanting to run for her own salvation and surrendering to the heat.

She tasted the fury, the frustration, the old carefully buried needs fought their way to the surface.

Standing in his apartment, she was flooded with the memories of laughter, lust, tears, anger...and him kissing Lauren to hurt her.

"I've missed you." Eric's husky voice made a deep rumble, sending a shiver down her spine.

"I can't imagine why." Tris said flatly as she felt an aching anger overcoming her desire begin to form, boiling in the pit of her stomach. Fury at him for pushing aside what they had been in favor of the female Dauntless leader. "I'm sure Lauren kept you plenty occupied during these past weeks."

"Are you jealous?" Eric dipped his head, his mouth warm, touching the soft bare skin of her shoulder, whispering. "She's not you."

Tris closed her eyes, savoring the words, before her spine stiffened and she pushed him hands from her body.

"No." She stepped back, her full lips quivering before she tightly pressed them together. "That doesn't explain why. I can't just forget even if I was able too. Eric, tell me why. I deserve that much."

"Tris."

"No dammit! You can't say these wonderful things, kiss me until I can't think even straight and expect me to fall back in your arms!" Tris's eyes narrowed as she turned her head to look at him, her gaze locking with her. Her words were slow and precise. "You fucking ended us. Remember? Before the Peter, before the trial, you ended us. You touching Lauren ended this."

"I did." He admitted tonelessly. "I kissed Lauren. I told you I did it to hurt you, to push you away. Fuck if it didn't work. I did what was necessary. But if you can't accept that then fucking leave. I never asked you to stay." He hissed, his anger overwhelming his reason.

"Never asked me to stay?" Tris laughed lightly, mocking. "Every moment of every day since I jumped, you have."

"And who begged me to help her? To hold her?" Eric reached out, his hands firmly grasping her upper arms. "Who brought you to life? The precious Four? No, that was me."

"That may be true," Tris agreed softly. "But at least he didn't ignore what was right in front of him like it didn't exist. Like I didn't exist." She brushed past him, tears rimming her eyes, her body trembling. "At least he didn't make me cry."

She could not do this why him, she wasn't strong enough.

She heard his heavy footsteps when he suddenly increased his stride before she made it to his front door, catching her arm in a painful grasp and with one motion brought her colliding with his hard body. His mouth came down, ravaging, his teeth raking across her bottom lip, willing her response.

She struggled against him, twisting, heating curling through her stomach as he lifted his head.

"We're not finished." His forearms trembled with the force it took to restrain his temper. "You can't walk away from me like I don't exist."

They faced one another in silence, she tilted her chin, her eyes daring him to start their fight again.

And he did not disappoint her.

Predatory intent flooded through his veins. He needed more. He always wanted more.

She was his.

His eyes were fiercely primitive, his nostrils flared, biting out the words. "Do you love me?"

"My god! Nothing touches you does it?" Tris cried incredulously, her hands connecting against his chest, attempting to push him back. "How can you have been so blind? Yes, I love you, but I'm tired of bruising myself against it."

She watched his muscles tense, his pupils contracting to tiny pinpoints, blue savagely flaring and her heart leapt wildly in her chest.

"I'm jealous." He admitted, almost soundlessly. "Of watching you with Four, with Will, fuck with any man who is not me, watching you smile at them. My smile." Eric's lips drew back over his teeth as he snarled, breathing hard. "I don't want you looking at another man. Do you understand?"

Her heart lunged wildly in her chest as she took a cautious step back, realizing her miscalculation.

"You want the real me?" Need darkened his words. "I'm yours. I fucking love you."

Elation swirled through her, her mouth slightly drooping open, her green eyes fastened on his face, the ferocity of his expression.

He loved her.

She couldn't comprehend, couldn't believe that he had finally said the words.

It wasn't what she always imagined it would be.

There was no soft caress, no gentle promise, but instead passion surging wildly through him, sweeping her along.

"I...what...can you say it again?"

"I said I love you." Eric repeated, sliding his hands up her back in a slow caress. She quivered, trying to speak, but she couldn't form the words.

He had almost lost her, let her love slip away from him and the very thought tormented him.

"I love you," he whispered. "And I'm not asking, I'm taking."

They kissed, open and wet, tongues tangling, as she pushed his jacket from his shoulders, her fingers grasping at the hem of his shirt.

Heat pooled into her core and she pushed from his shoulders, the material sliding down his arms before she yanked the black shirt free, her mouth plundering his, exploring the expansion of muscular flesh that she quickly sank her nails into.

Tris felt the demanding heat of his rising passion pressing boldly against her, his erection, hard and huge, straining to be free.

One of his hands slipped down and cupped a full breast that was aching for his touch. His palms burned her, his thumbs massaging around and over her nipple in a circular motion that made her moan aloud. Her flimsy shirt was no kind of barrier to his touch and she felt every sensation like he was caressing her bare skin.

Eric broke the heated kiss to allow her and himself to breath and then devoured her mouth once more. It was as if he couldn't get enough of her mouth. He hands found the waist of the tank and began to tug it upwards, dropping it to the ground, his gaze devouring the breasts standing proudly before him.

"Eric." she groaned out his name as he signed in deep, almost painful satisfaction, his tongue flickering and rolling around her nipples. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her, not taking his warm mouth off of her breast, holding her close to him, grinding his erection into the soft notch between her legs, shivers of pleasure shrieking through her.

He tasted and licked, snipping delicately,sucking hard bringing both of her nipples to tight wet peaks. Pressing her back against the door, he slid her gently down and took her mouth again. Their harsh breathing filled the room and they slowly began to walk backwards into her bedroom, not breaking the kiss, collapsing onto the mattress.

Eric reached down, sliding her pants off before hooking his strong fingers into the thin fabric of her panties, ripping the garment from front to back, the tattered remains fluttering to the ground.

His tongue lingered almost delicately, lightly circling her with his fingertips, teasing sensitive flesh with the featherlike caress as his hand moved boldly between her legs, one big finger pushing deep inside of her and she arched helplessly, moaning into his mouth, a heated sensation coiled within her. She was already hot, already wet, and and his tongue licked lightly over her flesh, his teeth grazing.

It was almost diabolical, the contrast of intensity between the sweetness of his mouth and the thrust of his fingers as she sank into a dark pool of need.

His touch burned like a brand, and she made an incoherent sound that could have been a plea. He twisted his hand, turning his palm up and driving his fingers in faster and harder that intensified each spasm.

Tris moaned in denial and he leaned back stripping himself of his pants.

Taking his thick, thrusting penis into his hand, he gently rubbed the head against her slick slit until he was satisfied he was thoroughly moistened. Needing to feel the hot slide of his flesh into her, she raised her hips in silent invitation. Her nails were digging into his shoulders, her own senses so heightened she could feel her own pulse as the warm blood pumped through her body as she smelled the hot musk of his arousal.

Eric held back, cupping her chin in his hand and turning her face so he could look at her.

She knew her soul was in her eyes, and he murmured a soft reassurance, and slid his arms under her as he slowly penetrated.

The sensation made both of them catch their breaths; his breath mingling with hers as he made a small moved that lodged him deeper. "All right?" he asked in a soft, guttural tone.

"Yes." The word was barely audible.

Eric captured her lips, his tongue sinking deep as he inched his thick length into her tiny passage, his naked flesh searing hers. She withered in his arms, sharp little cries of distress breaking from her throat at the enormous pressure between her thighs. He shifted his grip on her hips, as he plunged deep causing Tris to cry out arching as pain tore through her.

He began to rock his hips back and forth, a slight movement that caused her taut muscles to relax, allowing the next rock to slide him deeper into the hot, wet clasp of her.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he growled at her. "You have no idea how good you feel to me right now." He bent his head and bit her neck with his sharp teeth causing her to buck her hips and send him even deeper. Her hands clung to his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin as her body stretched, adjusting to his length. He was fully seated in her now and she could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest as he restrained himself.

Lifting his head from the crook of her neck, he asked her, "Ready?"

"Yes," she sighed, loving the way he stretched her body to fit him. It felt as if they were made for each other.

Eric pulled out of her slowly, until only the tip was in and barely so. Then he shoved his entire length back into her without warning, causing her to cry out. Her legs lifted and twined around his hips and thighs.

"Eric," she whimpered holding onto his arms as he thrust into her. Her hips were rising to meet his, trying to send him even deeper into her, trying to make him one with her.

"Yes…don't stop." She hissed at him.

Eric looked down at her, grinning darkly. "You like that," he muttered and then gave a particularly rough thrust that made her moan in pleasure.

His eyes glittered harshly as he rode her body, she clung to him, gasping as his strong hands gripped her breasts, crying out wordlessly as her hips lifted to his. His hair was plastered to his skull with sweat, she clawed at his back, her body shuddering, lifting and straining towards him. He groaned, too, she was liquid fire in his arms, her body burning his.

He suddenly pulled out of her and ordered, "Turn over."

Tris immediately obeyed, already missing the feeling which she needed so desperately inside of her. Eric grasped her hips and entered her roughly, he was way past gentleness then. His hips slammed against hers, the force driving her down to her elbows. She moaned with every thrust, getting louder and louder, neither caring as his hand slapped smartly against her ass, encouraging her movements.

"Eric," Tris whimpered, gripping the bed sheets tightly. "Please."

Eric slipped one hand around her and pinched her clit with his thumb and forefinger. "Let me feel you cum." he hissed harshly, not missing a stroke.

He was panting, the edges of reality blurred and swirling as the speed and rhythm of his strokes approaching frenzy. She cried out, the intense coil of tension releasing, a fierce sensation pulsating through her body, convulsing, and he held her as she heaved in his arms and her soft internal muscles milked his erection.

The muscles in her entire lower body tightened and clamped down, holding him, shaping themselves around him, as her juices coated the upper part of his thighs. Eric held back wanted to feel each small contraction, but she had barely gone limp in his arms when he gripped her hips to anchor himself, shoving deeper before bucking violently, hotly spurting into her wetness.

Their fire fed one another.

Eric sprawled on his back, his eyes closed and chest heaving while she curled next to him, burying her head in his shoulder, her limbs limp and heavy.

With a great deal of effort, he raised his head and slowly surveyed the tangled wreckage of his bed, his blue eyes twinkling, his lips twitching with amusement.

"This is your fault," he groaned, running a hand down her rapidly chilling body, caressing the bare flesh. "You're trying to kill me."

"How is this my fault?" Tris demanded, slapping his shoulder, laughing as he let out an exaggerated yelp of pain.

"You let me taste you." Eric accused. "You let me love you."

"Have you always?"

"Always." he whispered, pushing the strands of her blonde hair away from her face. He heaved himself up on his elbow as he smiled down at her. "I always will."

Tris pressed her lips gently to his as she maneuvered to straddle his lips, drawing in a shuddering breath.

She needed to tell the truth. No matter the cost.

"Eric,I have to tell you something." He looked at her in silence, an eyebrow arched. "I'm Divergent."

He looked at her, his blue eyes hooded, his body stiffening before he reached up, cupping her face in his hands.

"I know."


End file.
